Musings of a Divorcee

That day, barely 24 hours after the incident, with you, pop, and my mom seated around that table in the kitchen, him pacing and exposed… I knew things were changing. 

I had him tell you (all) that we were divorcing and why, because it was his consequence to bare. He’d lied and cheated, disrespected me in my face many times over. 

And still you said, sing song voice of yours  “but N—-, he said you didn’t even have sex with him on the trip.” Accusation and enabling disgustingly enmeshed 

In that moment it was clear… you were a part of his why. You were his dream woman, the one who’d always stay, apologize for his bad deeds, be forever understanding, self-effacing – what I’d never be. 

I hated you for that, what you raised him to be. I hated that you meant something to me. That you were in some ways another mother to me, that we had forged our own relationship…

With the utterance of that question, statement, accusation, you betrayed me too.

You were another reason I couldn’t stay.