There was a time, once, when I was aware that I didn't quite fit in. Anywhere. I was always a phony, too young to comprehend what was going on around me. With no transition, I was suddenly too old to fit in.
It dawns on me, finally, that I'm never going to please those young women in junior high school who sent me the letter, listing my shortcomings. By the reading of the critical list from a wife, preparing to leave, it was beginning to sink in. Certainly, I was never going to make her very happy, either.
We, the women in my life and I, can agree. I'm not like the rest.