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| Tuesday, June 03, 2008 |
| Strength |
My boyfriend left me today.
He isn't coming back.
We lived like an old married couple.
We shared toothbrushes.
We ate off each other's plates.
I slept curled around his muscular frame last night, knowing that it was the last time.
He didn't tell me.
He didn't have to.
I have felt it coming.
I brought him coffee in the morning.
I showered alone, staying in the bathroom as long as I could.
I heard him in the backyard telling his nephew that I was shit.
The assessment of my lesser qualities hurt me deeply.
I listened for as long as I could take it.
Then I put my purse on my shoulder and went to say goodbye.
He asked if I was going to work.
I smiled a little and said I had to.
He went to my car to get his paperwork out of the dash.
I followed a bit slowly, taking it all in.
The sun was shining through the leaves on the aspen tree.
They were so green.
They rustled in the breeze.
I saw an empty carton of beer jutting out of the trashbin.
I meandered to the car, where he had just stood up.
His hair flowed down his back, stubble on a determined, angry face.
He held me fiercly, saying he loved me, that I was a good good woman.
He kissed my face then walked away.
My voice had caught in my throat, my insides trembling like a plate of jello on top of a powerful speaker.
I received the call mid afternoon.
His nephew saying that he'd helped him pack his belongings.
Said he left him at the gas station, told him not to watch which direction he went.
Then he was gone.
He didn't say goodbye to my sons.
I guess, in a way, he did say goodbye to me.
He left me a mess.
He left me.
He's gone.
I'm glad. |
posted by katmandusuekookachoo @ 4:16 PM  |
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