Sister

I was worried after she told me. Small town in the south. I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

Truth be told, it took me a while to get used to using those pronouns too. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.

“Just be careful,” I told her. And I hate myself for saying that and for feeling the need to say that.

I hate it for turning out to be true.

Most of the family were less than receptive. And I had to fight like hell. And they won’t talk to me anymore, a lot of them.

But the tombstone reads “Jackie” instead of “Jack.”

Because it should.