_________

My roommate has a parade of men coming in and out of her bedroom late at night. I can hear them through the door and the walls. I don't really think much about it. I just think about her little girl who is almost two sleeping in the crib right there in the room with them.

I think about how unhappy she is- the mother not the daughter. I think about how all these men who come for 'movies' or 'hanging out' forget to bring the DVD's or just have alcohol with them.

And how she always describes them as' been friends forever'. But they are always gone by late morning as she ushers them away so her daughter will not meet them face to face. How many friends does she have exactly? Where does she find these men who do not want love? Who never come back?

I guess I should count myself fortunate- the people who held me at night were there in the day. They loved me. I was special.

I hope to leave this place soon. I hope more than anything I never have to see her or her daughter again.