The bell is ringing, I curse softly under my breath. I don't want to answer it. I want to walk no, run out that door and never return, never look back. Two rings and it stops, I smile, you don't want to bother me, you don't want me to be angry. You don't understand, I am already angry, angry at the nasty disease that has insidiously slithered it's way through you, making the contact that I craved so badly, almost impossible, angry at the man that proclaimed love for me then went out and turned his back on that proclamation. Angry at myself for ignoring the signs that rang in my ears, that spewed from your lips, that almost blinded me with tears every night. I am angry at "The Almighty Himself" (sigh).
When I walk in, I see the tears, I turn away. It's not that I don't feel pity for you, I do, I truly do. However, right now, I AM ANGRY!
"You know... I hope I don't hurt your feelings, but I don't see the need for all these pills."
It makes me laugh inside when I see you cringe. That's how I felt when the letter came. My guts twisted into a knot that hasn't come loose yet. " I mean what's the point?"
And I hear you say; "get it off your chest"
Get it off my chest... ok. "I loved you so much, for so long, never cheated on you, went along with all your wild dreams and schemes, had your children, defended you even when I knew you were wrong, gave up my career to work so you could finish your schooling. I cooked, cleaned.. tell me why, that is what I want to know, why.. what was it I fell short in hum what?"
You actually laugh, "are you sure you want to hear it?" I glare at you.. "well of course I want to hear it, I need something tangible, something I can chew up and spit out!"
And you say such a simple thing... "You Loved Me Soooo Much."