When you first left, it's true I missed you,
More concerned than surprised
Of a life not living with you,
And not on the lookout for.

We were deep into the day-to-day;
Rising, showering for my pay,
Coffee driving to be the workplace slave,
Going out to get a bite or two,
Watching favorite shows with you,
Before retiring for the night.
Getting rest, restarting bright.

It got steeper the further we climbed,
Something was missing, hard to define,
The kids came, there was less time,
Dashing here and there was all fine;
Will I miss that too?
I had plans. I stewed.

So, we cracked the atomic nucleus,
The fallout made us think;
We couldn't life in the shelter,
Outside would make us sick.
The emergency supply was dwindling,
You were itching to get moving,
But the all clear hadn't signaled yet.

The sirens wailed, get out and breathe
Fresh air and some needed reprieve.
One path diverged, and I'm good,
I don't miss you like I thought I would.

My green-eyed first wife -
fiery temper and hair to match -
slid the wedding ring on my
finger.

Twisting on my knuckle, it
never left my hand.  I grokked
with certainty borne from intuition
that BAD THINGS would happen
should that tri-colored gold band
leave my touch.

Years, a decade and change, passed
and one day I took it off and set it
on the bed beside me.
For two seconds I was fine, but then
I couldn’t breathe.
In a panic, I put the ring back on.

But

I put it on backwards.

BAD THINGS happened.

Weeks later, soul-weary and
tired of constant fighting
I remembered my
misstep and I
flipped the ring on my finger.

Things got better.  But now I knew.  
Like peeling blistered skin after a sunburn,
I couldn’t stop.

Flip. Fight. Flip. Make up.
Flip. Scream. Flip. Sweet nothings.
Flip. Slammed doors. Flip. Makeup ***.

I forgot which direction was safe and
which was dangerous.

That marriage - that ring - is gone now.
I’m married to a blonde angel now
with a temper as cool as her hair; who
loves me more than I deserve
and knows me better than I’d like.

From day one, I refused to let the
flip
of the ring mar my new marriage.  

I flipped it on my wedding night.
I flipped it the next day on my honeymoon.
I flip that ring every day,
daring
it to curse me again.

Another decade has passed,
I flip my new ring daily.

And cringe a little each time.

The counted sheep
Have become closer to me
Than you are
As far away as can be
In our full sized bed
That you persuaded me
Was just right for a couple
As in love as we.

And now I am left
The sheep and me
In a full sized bed
With an un-full heart
Un-loved
Un-restful
And not Un-married.

You manipulated everything.
I wasn’t aware until it was all said and done.
Who is the fool now?

I blocked his number today.

****- that was hard for me.
He never harmed me in anyway.
I just can’t do this anymore.
The back and forth.
The random and in between text messages.

We are both divorced. Both hurt. Both struggling. But you’re still stuck in the past.

You tell me you’re here and I run down the stairwell so excited. I have to stand on my tippy toes to hug you.

We get in the elevator. I touch your chest and tell you that your shirt looks nice. You put your arms around me and hold me. It’s been a long time.

We sit on the couch. Here I am. Naked. I’m vulnerable. No makeup. Acne. No bra. Pajamas. You pull me on your lap and kiss me.

You changed your earrings?
He asks.
I’m shocked you remember small details.
I say.

You’re special to me.


He pulls me in close into his neck and I begin to cry. That’s all I do now. He can’t sleep at night either and he knows I’m broken. He doesn't try anything because he knows I’m ****** up.

You know I’m not ready.

You massage my head and watch Netflix. I look at your eyes and you're zoned out. Maybe you live in an alternate universe in your head as well. Maybe that’s why I can’t let you go. You’re broken like me and it’s so ******* beautiful. You’re so ******* beautiful.

But today.

I blocked your number.
I need to heal and I’m sorry it can’t be with you.

She listened,
He deflated,
I broke
And it's so **** cyclical.