. (Prounounced "End...")

When it begins, I can't help feeling finished. I suddenly remember my age. Ponder my marital and parental status. I'm an emotional little girl on the inside; an undeniable woman on the outside. There is no lady in sight.

I remember Adam. Wonder if he doesn't love me because of this...if he feels more sinful because my body is out of order but looks operational and enticing. I want to cry, but the Eve in me is strong...and knows the truth.

So I sleep instead, contorting my body throughout the night to relax the pain I'm too exhausted to address. My mind flashes scenes of life many moons ago and tries to predict many moons ahead. When I wake up, I'm still in the middle of my own mess. I pull myself up and attempt to wash it all away. It only works temporarily before the flood returns, the pain crashing through me like tidal waves, yielding only temporarily to pharmaceuticals.

When it goes, I am relieved. I eat and sleep better. My purse is lighter and often smaller. Eve has disappeared, I'm left to deal with me, her distant ancestor, shaking strange fruit from our family tree. My caverns don't swell and flood. They are dark and empty. I am bit sad for it. Like it or not, it was the only reminder of my femininity, which dwells deep in my heart, but is held captive by my pride. And when it never returns, I know I will struggle with what it means to have an impact on the world if I have not made a significant dent in those prison bars.

It makes me eloquent when others deem it a curse. It is what could have been, thrown away so I can live healthily. It is the first half of an "us" that isn't likely...