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            I stared blankly at Sarah. A good friend. She always pays her rent, and that helps us with the mortgage. And she's always willing to lend an ear, just as I am for her, whenever either of us is confronted with feelings. Strong feelings. Confusing feelings.

            She waved a hand in front of my eyes, I'd zone out. Then, she let out a sigh. And finally, she spoke, "A prostitute, Meg."

            When I realized what she was talking about, a tear ran down my left cheek. And then, I was slowly crying from both. And as Sarah moved in to comfort me, I just kept crying softly. Where did we go wrong?

            And then my mind wandered, breaking free of marital analysis. I thought of Jake. I thought of that night at the bar. A revelation dawned on me.

Breaking Free

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