Warning signs

I was right to listen to my instincts. Sure enough things here have been a little tumultuous. I’m sailing through rough seas and thankful I feel strong. I’m asking for what I want and need, and it’s serving me well.

It was the eagerness to go to court, the looks he gave her when he was sitting right next to me, and the confirmation of a cell phone bill that brought it all home. Don’t get me wrong I’ve never proclaimed to be an angel, but there are some knives I’ve sparred him. Making a fool out of your friends commands your enemies to spring forth. And so it went.

These things will pass for me, and in a few weeks my only reminder of him will be the house we use to share and my last name. I’m left with a hollow memory of a friendship in need of repair. I was always introduced as his first wife during our marriage. Funny how true that was in retrospect. Only he had one line wrong. “Your first wife is your most important wife, because she still loves you while you are poor and has your children.” I left without child.

Why does strength come to us in a disastrous fashion? What qualities does is possess that it refuses to let us to learn about ourselves during times of happiness? Part evil and part beauty, it must be something of a female construction.