I wish him the best.
The man I looked up to for years.
He said he wasn’t happy.
I told him to find his happiness.
I didn’t know his happiness required another woman.
He said it would be me and him always.
Just like when I was a little girl and we went skating on Wednesdays.
He soothed my bruised knees and wiped away my tears.
I didn’t cry anymore because I knew I could count on him.
That is, until She came along.
I was his Valentine every year.
Until She came along
and I became just another pebble on the farm she was so impressed with.
“She doesn’t love him” I assure myself.
“How could she? She’s 20 years younger than him”
Apparently, age is just a number.
Much like the numbers on a clock.
Tick tock.
My time with Him is up.