Monday, December 26, 2011

It's Not The End, It's the Beginning

It's not that she hadn't considered the D word. She had.

But the bleakness of a weekday morning in her expansive home was too much to fathom. After a third cup of premium coffee and a few laughs with the women of The View, what would fill the vacuous space?
Loneliness. Or worse, enough time to figure out who the person she had become and why she bled so much hurt.

The idea of another red blooded man seeing her naked was appealing. She had an uncharacteristically fantastic body for a woman in her 40's and the voracious craving for sexual comments regarding it sent a quiver in between her taut legs.
The idea of another man touching her body was another story. She'd only known him.
Despite the night his older sister's friend breathed Wild Turkey on his blond bangs while taking his innocence on their Rec Room's orange shag carpet late Sophomore year, he'd only known her too.

Maybe this is what made their bond so unbreakable. Maybe it was the reason their resentment had its own slow pulse serving as a reminder of wasted youth. Spelling out H-A-T-E with every beat.
But divorce. It wasn't an option for the spit shined exterior of her well liked and widely accepted family.





So what was a girl to do?

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