Well, there it is.
Matching sets on left fingers.
Proof positive of what I had been sure of.
This morning I finally saw what I had long knew in my heart.
It hit me hard.
Harder than I expected.
Like a kick in the stomach.
I had loved this man.
Trusted him with my life, my secrets, my heart, my kids.
He had loved me.
We were best friends.
And then we were not.
One weekend destroyed 25 years.
We haven’t spoken since.
I looked at his picture.
Let the tears slide down.
He chose well.
My rambling man found a home.
We both knew from the beginning that there was only room for one.
He chose well.
But I know that, every once in a blue moon, he’ll sit in his truck and remember.
Long rides singing along to the radio.
Drinking margaritas and licking honey off our fingers.
Telling it like it is.
We had a good, long run.
I hope she gives him one, too.
I think she will.
I think he will, too.
Jeanna’ Mead
6 54 a.m. 8.6.19
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