Goodbye to my marriage...

I can’t believe you’ll never again walk with us around the neighbourhood streets as the boys ride ahead on their bikes,
I can’t believe we’ll never again watch Scrubs or Dexter together – you’ve got her for that now,
I can’t believe there will be no more barbecues with too much food, lots of laughter and children playing,
I can’t believe you’ll never make me a cup of tea or cheese on toast again – what do you make for her?
I can’t believe you’ll never again rub my feet or sore neck and shoulders – I guess she gets that now…..
I can’t believe we won’t sit at the Blue Train listening to others’ conversations and watching the boats on the Yarra.
I still miss the eggs and bacon you cooked us and your pizzas, now you have someone else to cook for.
It hurts to know you will take her everywhere we’ve ever been, show her things we both liked, laugh at her jokes,
That you’ll remember what it’s like to enjoy life, with her, but not with us,
That you’ll never see the looks on our boys’ faces as they open their Christmas presents.
I cry when I think of watching our garden grow on my own.
I scream into the pillow when I have to deal with the boys’ behaviour alone again and again.
I cry some more when I think of the family holidays we’ll never have and I’ve looked forward to.
I avoid the theatre and cinemas, because they remind me of you.
I miss the sound of the front door opening as you came home from work.
I miss the sound of the boys’ giggling as you played with them in the evenings – they hardly giggle any more.
I’m sad that you’ll miss out on their daily lives, dramas and discoveries. Their constant chatter.
But you’ve chosen her, not me, not us. I hope you’re happy – you weren’t with us….
I thought marriage was for ever, I guess you didn’t.
I believed everything was fixable, you never even tried.
You’ve broken our hearts. Does yours even hurt?

Goodbye to my marriage...

windycorner

Carrum Downs, Australia

  • Artist
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Artist's Description

A goodbye ode to my marriage which was full of lies and betrayal, but here I mourn the good bits which can never be replaced.

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