“Reality bites”, a phrase I’ve heard from time to time. I didn’t follow the meaning until life applied it to mine.

Scrolling through family photos that captured moments in time. My nostalgic warm and fuzzies ended as thoughts flooded my mind.

Vast majority memories of the “sisters” beautiful and fine was missing something… the face unaccounted for was sadly mine.

My mother has four girls yet the memories to be passed on only depict three. Yep that unaccounted sister is yours truly, unimportant me.

As a teen I was a runner, when things got to my level of unbearable, I would remove myself and flee.

For those years I get it. Understandably, out of sight out of mind… so no pictures would have been captured of me at that time.

Yet as adults birthdays, holidays, or just times of hanging out, still no records of me; I sit here with a pout.

I’ve tried to make mends, still in the family tree, most wont even notice the missing branch, yeah me.

I guess it’s pretty easy to look right over me, even when with the sisters the odd ball is me. I act as if I don’t care, I hide my tears from any to see.

Reality is I don’t have anywhere that I fit, no family unit that claims that I am a part. I guess I brought it on myself but it still hurts my heart.

Inside I scream “save a spot for me”, the biting part is all is well in the world with just the three.

So I’ll get back comfortable In the shadows, the place where secrets and embarrassment lurk. Smiling on the outside,yet inside is truly hurt.

Not invited to participate while the youngest walk that aisle and say I do. Know that on that day I will day a prayer for you.

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