The Woman Who Lost it All (A Fictional Short Story)

She sits on her leather sofa they just bought a year ago, thinking “oh how I once worried about what color this is. Now I just want to get rid of it for free.” Caressing the leather, she imagines she isn’t even there but rather in another state, in a new house, with a new man, and her beautiful children treating him as if he is their blood. Over and over she tells herself it isn’t too late to fight for what she has always wanted; peace.

Their pictures are everywhere. Old memories once kept her sane, but now make her think she is headed inside a straight jacket. His scent is everywhere. All over her clothes especially. She has spent the entire day re-washing everything. Almost symbolic in a way, cleansing the filth of his wrongdoings off of her. So much blame, she says to herself. So much blame I have taken on to get to this point. All the introspection, day and night, beating myself up for what? To be forgotten. What happened to not giving up on someone? These days she perceives everyone as on the go, on to the next, and rather than fixing what is wrong, finding the new thing that might feel right for an evening or two.

Where do I get my faith? Do I ask god why this happened to me?Or rather just face the fact he would rather kiss the lips of another than mine. Why? She asks. In my head, he is still like a god. I still love the part  of him I first locked onto. How could he make it all go away? So quickly? Why can’t i?

She is convinced her heart is a fool or it is derived from gold. She chooses the gold because it makes it easier to hope. Hope for herself and hope for her children to grow up with a male figure who teaches them how to play ball, treat women, and straighten their tie. She wishes it could have been him but some play roles rather than living them.

The kids will be home shortly. So should he, but maybe he won’t be. He will probably call and say he is late at the office but she knows where he will be now. Thanks to a good friend at the restaurant, the reservation isn’t unnoticed. All bad deeds come to a bad end. Sometimes they just need a push into the end part so the dignity and esteem of the innocent remains intact.

She knew something was wrong when she tried to use the credit card last week but the credit line was used up. An expensive purchase, a ring, she waited for it last week but it never came for her. She thought it could be hidden around the house but after two days of searching there was minimal hope. She ponders: Why are my dreams always sold away to the desperate girl who would love a towel? That is not love. To be so desperate for someone to take care of you, is never love. I spent my life bearing his children, cleaning his underwear, cooking his food, and paying for a house I cannot even stand in without wanting to cry. I deserve that ring or no one will have it.

It is five thirty. The reservation is for 6. She kisses her children, tells the babysitter it will be a while, then leaves. The sound of the rain upon her windshield reminds her there are some things out of her control; like the weather. Like in life but she would have it no other way. Forget the umbrella she mutters. I want to feel the rain. For so long he kept it out, hid it inside, and now there is a storm.

She is on a mission. Briefcase in hand. Her soon to be ex husband, is desperately trying to woo a young lady after his wallet. Risking his children minds, money, his wife, and the rest of his life for what? An empty mind which needs to be developed. The girl knows better, she wants an easy way out. They both are in the wrong.

She sits down. Rests the briefcase upon the table. Everyone is suddenly still. They think there is a bomb, but no it is a lie detector. She tells him to put his finger in it like it has been in other places it shouldn’t have. Question by question she writes down the results in front of the other woman. For some reason it doesn’t bother her this man is a complete liar. Disgusting, the wife thinks. The crowd in the background is roaring with excitement. They think this is some kind of reality tv show like cheaters. She ensures them it is, knowing people will fall for anything their own mind creates.

At the end, she asks the other woman, knowing he is a liar for years, do you still want this man? The woman says, he won’t lie to me. Noticing the ring on the table, the wife quickly snatches it up and says well then if you are so greedy, why don’t you just eat this ring? If you can swallow it, you can keep it. Their faces are lined up, and the wife aggressively pops the ring into her mouth, makes her swallow it and says well that will be a memorable proposal. And by the way, hunny, could you sign these divorce papers? He quickly does and she is on her way.

The home is still riddled full of his memories and an occasional scent, but she laughs thinking of the last time she saw him. The woman, the ring, the detector, the crowd, and the papers. Her children are playing in the pool, as if nothing has happened. She thinks, I did it soon enough. She watches her new husbands muscle definition as he scrapes the pool, smiling at her children, then running to fetch a band aid after one of them falls to the ground. She thinks again, there is hope in people if they have it in themselves. Glad I never lost myself completely.

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Smile Without a Cause

Your eyes reminded me of someone

now changed but once an awful man

he thought he could control his woman

but tying her up with verbal commands

but that man went crazy

brought a knife to a no gun fight

layers of rope and he broke

when he saw he lost his child’s hope

tore the world open

to expose all the lies

now he cries

knowing all that is left inside

is nothing but hate…

I try to create an image to replace

the horrible fate

he even had to contemplate

like there was a decision

when innocence exists

hold your child’s hands

cuz it might bring back the hope

 

a child’s eyes are like sun

and he rolled in the clouds

since someone had sinned…

But is the anger ok?

Maybe for one day

maybe for a month

but not for a year

how many tears dropped

to get to mars?

how could you walk away

instead of get rid of the scars?

Your eyes reminded me of someone

once above them

floating above the clouds looking down

now your mind is broken

all maimed inside

you want to know pain

take a peak in my head

most people would have given up

played fucking dead…

but I stray along with a smile on my face

nothing can break me

not you

not this

it already happened twenty years ago

when the summer left

along with my false bliss

but all i ever wanted

was someone to know

they can’t break me down

when I never had anywhere to go…

so I burn like a star

still bright but scarred.