The glass dish that belonged to my grandmother
exploded when I poured cold batter into it
to make goddamn toad in the hole for dinner
I say exploded, but it made the faintest sound and
suddenly there, on the table, a mess of broken glass
and dripping batter and blistered sausages
I know what happens when you pour cold into hot
I had read about exploding bakewear so many times
and yet, it just never occurred to me tonight
And so, a new batch of batter whisked and poured into a different dish
and placed in the oven
I sat on my bed, trying not to cry
thinking about how unkind life had been lately
taking and taking and taking
giving too, but mostly, taking
and I thought, 'One more bad card dealt
and I will be done. Just done.'
And then I thought about how I'd thought this very same thing
a few weeks ago
but so many bad things had happened since
and here I was, still.
They talked about resilience and perseverance and strength
when I had to put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine
and I would think about how it had
nothing to do with bravery
we got through one bad day after another
not because we wanted to
or still had some fight left in us but because
we had to.
You know, it never occurred to me but when things between us died down
an inevitability given the one-sided-ness of our feelings
I expected the end to be dramatic and explosive and loud
but it wasn't. It was so underwhelming
almost like it didn't even happen
everything seemed fine one minute
and the next,
it was all gone.
