Notes from the Single Life

t h r e e - barbie dolls and bouquets

THREE: barbie dolls and bouquets

"I think they should have a Barbie with a buzz cut." -Ellen DeGeneres

I used to be obsessed with Barbie. I would play with her for hours, dressing her up and living out her life like it was my own. I only had one doll, and that was enough for me. I didn't feel the need to play with other girls. I had my doll and my imagination, and that was all that I needed. Eventually I grew away from Barbie. She had her ideals and her looks, and I had mine. The sad thing was, they were completely opposite, and I knew it. I knew with my whole heart that I would never be Barbie material. I wasn't that type of girl then, and I am certainly not that type of girl today. The last time I had played with Barbie was when I was twelve, and I cut her hair all off. 

Now, years later, I was sitting on my kitchen floor going through a box of old pictures in search of old photographs of Brooke and I for the wedding. My mother had requested them as she was going to make a photo album for Brookes wedding gift. I pulled out a picture of me holding Barbie. I was crying, and the doll mine as well been, as I had ripped half of her hair out and cut off the rest. She was almost completely bald except for a few nubs sticking out from the top of her head. My hair was equally as screwed up, and tears were streaming down my face. I couldn't quite recall the situation, but I asumed that I had been scolded for cutting the dolls hair and leaving it strewn around the house.

I began to laugh at the sight of the picture. It was comical to me, and it brought back old childhood memories. However, I slowly came to realize that I hadn't changed a bit. I was still trying to tear those who were prettier or more popular or smarter than I was down. I had been a jealous bitch in high school, and all of the signs were there from the beginning. A small tear dribbled down my face and over my lips. I licked the drop of water away, but the salt was still left, burning and leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, much like my past.

I shoved the pictures scattered around the floor back into the box and placed it on the counter for another time. I couldn't attempt to look back at my past. Not right now. Not when my ex-bestfriend was getting married. So I did something rash, something to erase the panic building up in my throat. I called my dad.

Sasha had picked up my dad's phone, and I wasn't the least bit surprised or upset. I still wasn't quite ready to talk to him, or even see him for that matter, but five years had been long enough, and I was ready to attempt to repair whatever relationship we had left.

"Hi, Desta," Sasha said, sounding really excited. Her voice was muffled, and she seemed to be screaming.

"Hey Sasha. Are you guys at the train station?" I asked her on a hunch, already throwing a coat on and slipping my boats over my thick socks and onto my feet.

She paused before saying anything, as if processing everything. "Yeah, we just arrived," she yelled, her breath hitching. "It's just so exciting. A new city, and of course, I get to meet you," she told me, giggling.

"How about I meet you at the train station?' I suggested, heading out of my apartment and pulling the door shut behind me. "We can go out to lunch," I told her.

"That sounds so great," she squeled. "See you soon." We exchanged a few more words before I was able to get off of the the phone and hail a taxi to the train station. I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing by going to see my father, and I finally admitted that I was kind of excited to meet Sasha. They had been married for two years, and it was one of the weddings that I refused to attend--in fact, it had been the first. I wanted to go to the wedding, too, but I couldn't convince myself to go. I was supposed to be in it, but I didn't want to disappoint my father by being alone (because it always comes down to that, in the end), and I ended up disappointing him anyway. I ruined the one chance that I had to make amends with my dad, and now I've been given another chance. I would never give that up.

When I got to the train station, I began having second thoughts. Was this a good idea? Was I even ready for this? But when I finally saw them across the train station, most of my fears were stripped away. My dad stood a good five inches over Sasha, and they were holding hands. His hair was short, like it always had been, and it was beginning to gray. His shoulders were hunched over, and he looked just as nervous as I felt, but he was cleanshaven and dressed nicely, and I mentally thanked Sasha for helping him turn his life around. Our eyes met across the train station, and he gave me a half smile. I bit my lip, trying to hold back tears as I waved and began to walk to them.

I wanted so badly to jump into his arms and cry and apologize. I wanted to have my father back, but instead I maintained my composure and walked over to them like the mature adult that I strived to be. "Hi," I half-whispered, wringing my hands in front of me. Sasha grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"It is so nice to meet you," she told me, squeezing me arms as she pulled away. "I've been waiting ages for this." I smiled, but didn't say anything. My dad was looking away, perhaps pondering what to say next, just like I was.

"Me too," I told Sasha, finally allowing myself to relax. If my father was going to be difficult, that was fine for now. I didn't expect this to be easy, but I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip out of my hands, because, after all, I needed someone, and if that wasn't going to be a boyfriend, it would certinaly be my father.

This was kind of a rough chapter to write. I was crying at the end mostly because I hate goodbyes, so this is so touching that they're trying to build their relationship back up. (oh god...I just bascially praised myself for writing that...DISREGARD that.) :D Anyway, sorry it's not super long or super exciting, but I think that this chapter needed to be addressed. Thanks for reading. Don't forget to comment, vote, and share. :D