The woman she was ten years ago was doing

what she thought she should.

The marriage was over;

she’d known that for awhile.

If he hadn’t been so mean, she might have stayed,

even with the infidelities and the money problems

and all the rest.

 

It surprised her a little now

that she’d acted so quickly once the blinders fell off,

once she stopped pretending that he wasn’t two people,

one for her and another for the rest of the world.

Once he stopped pretending he was a man she could love.

Once he started being himself at home.

 

Looking back, she had to admit

she was kind of proud of herself that she’d gotten away so clean;

oh, it was terrible the first couple of years,

and even now, an occasional sweet memory would surface,

or she’d see a couple in a restaurant that reminded her of them,

and a sudden wave of loss and sadness would wash over her,

and she would feel utterly bereft.

 

But only for a minute.

 

After a minute, she’d remind herself

of the peaceful, good life she’d found in a new place

with her best people, and she’d smile,

knowing that she was still doing

what she thought she should.

 

Gena Williams