The Knockout Queen

by Rufi Thorpe

I didn’t think I was worth something more normal. I didn’t think the happiness I saw all around me was on the menu for me.

I felt then that no one would ever know who I was. No one, I thought, was even capable of seeing another person clearly, let alone loving them.

was not confident enough to tell him what I myself barely knew, which is that being true to yourself, even if it makes everyone hate you, even if it makes people want to kill you, is the most radical form of liberty, and when you make contact with something as electric and terrifying as the unadorned truth of yourself, it burns away so many other smaller forms of bondage you weren’t even aware of, so you find yourself irradiated and unencumbered. That there is something holy in that kind of stubbornness.

Why did we want so desperately to be seen? I saw her. My eyes were full of her. But it wasn’t enough, and I was no longer hurt by it. The way she loved me wasn’t enough for me either. Maybe love would never be enough. Maybe it would never do what we wanted it to do.