… … …
You take the pieces of the dreams that you have
'Cause you don't like the way they seem to be going…
You hesitate for a moment, the tip of the pen hovering over the page. You're not having second thoughts: You haven't once regretted this decision. But it feels strange to finally be here and, for a second, you wonder if you should feel something more than relief. Shouldn't you be devastated that your marriage is over? Shouldn't it make you sad that your plans and hopes won't come to be?
Shouldn't your mind, now, be on what you're leaving behind, not on what - or who - could be in your future?
You shake your head, dismissing that train of thought as you have so many times before. It's a romanticised notion with no place in the reality of your relationship.
You press the pen into the page, pausing a beat longer and forcing yourself to acknowledge that you were happy together once. Your past deserves at least that much before you move on.
You sign your name.
You cut them up and spread them out on the floor,
You're full of hope as you begin rearranging…
You disconnect the call and drop the phone onto your bed. You'll kill him!
Except, you won't. You should. But you understand why he's done it, and you can't blame him. You never can. And he gets away with far too much because of that.
You snatch a dress out of your closet, all the while muttering to yourself about Cal and loans, and the fact that it's about time he acknowledged that you are his partner.
Then you stop… You return to your closet and hook the grey dress back on the rail. You peruse your options and a smile spreads across your lips as you make your choice.
It's about time he acknowledged some other things as well.
So, today, you're wearing pink.
... ... ...