Shattered. In mind, body and soul.

Struggling to find the strength to carry on.

It feels like I’ve been in a car crash.

No warning. The joint accounts are wiped. My BFF turned on our 20 years of friendship, for a man. Mine.

To top things off, he left his grotty skateboard on the front steps of our apartment, which I tripped over as I left for work this morning.

Fuck it all!

I need to find the strength of a lion, my inner tigress.

I weakened in the gaze of a man, enfolded in his virile, very masculine strength. I forgot that I am woman, and I can roar, stomped down on my voice, waved off concerned friends, placated worried family.

As I wait in the emergency ward, sitting on a bed, sewn up and drugged for the pain, I ponder. And reach the conclusion that I gave up, caved. And I need my power back.

Through the observation window, I contemplate the busy corridor and see looking back at me the powerful gaze of a beautiful woman. Clear, hazel eyes.

Shattered parts come together fashioned in the stripes of a tiger. And jump as I realise. That is me.

I draw shoulders back and breathe, deeply. Pick up my phone and text, “You’ve done me the biggest favour. I wish you’d gone years ago. Thank you and goodbye.’

It takes all stripes. And mine are golden, feline. [239 words, 6 minutes]

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