Part XI
We all know,
not all dreams are pleasant,
and as my body gives in to the wares of war,
I drift into a dream far away;
past days of my mother’s brutality,
into the realm of falling in love and entering into marriage.
The beginning was fun and games.
Drinking every day.
Sex that is free after vows are made.
Getting mad,
making up,
getting madder,
making up tougher,
hit with the reality that my spouse is an alcoholic,
and all the sudden,
life and responsibility lies on my shoulders
and I don’t want it.
I have to live sober through the hell,
and he drinks and curses me ruthlessly,
and I have to forgive day after day after day…
the dream is a nightmare,
and I am awake;
how was a naïve 18 year old supposed to beat the wits of
a 30 year old man?
She’s not! I didn’t! And the story goes…
– Michellia D. Wilson 8/23/14 6:00 PM
Please tell me you got out and found peace. This story is heartbreaking and explicit.
I’m bipolar. I have seasons of unrest but currently I am stable. Thanks for asking.
I divorced my husband after 20 years of struggles.
Line 3 do you mean the waves of war?
I meant wares as in inanimate objects. Souvenirs of discontent.