HOME | POLITICS | SPORTS | LIFE | SCI/TECH | OPEDS | HELPFUL TIPS
|
Oct. 26, 2004 I could sit and listen to music and think about how much I hate you. Because I do, my Husband, I hate you. There are times my mind wanders to you and I wish you would die. But, and there is a but, I missed you Saturday. Not the "you" you are now, but the "you" you were. The pictures of you I saw in Joe's photo album, showing the beautiful, blond, cooking wine drinking you that I fell in love with. And that man is dead. I don't know when he died, but he did. I held pictures of you in my hands and stared at the 18 year old boy smiling back at whomoever was holding the camera. In once upon a time land, you were my everything. Everything you were, I loved. Everything you wanted, I tried to give you. You were the sun and the moon to me. You were you. And now, well, now, you're not. You're this wretched, evil person living in the shell of my once beloved's body. And as I write this, I realize, oh shell of my former best friend, that the breakdown of our marriage, of our life together, of us is not my fault. It's yours. You died, not me. ------------ About the author L.J. Chapman: I am a 24 year old mother of two. I am getting married June 4, 2005 to my fiance', Josh. I am in the middle of writing my first novel, "The Checked Blanket" which I hope to have finished by the end of the year. I have several poems on poetry.com. Email: bipolar_bear80@hotmail.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
