My response to this week’s writiing challenge is actually a re-post of a former challenge. I saw the picture and all I could hear was the old story, so here it is!
I tried everything, using every trick in the book. He never saw me cross or demanding and I was always, always attentive. I made him the centre of my universe in the stolen moments he could get away.
I lived for those moments, when he kept one eye on the clock and one foot on the floor as we snatched some tenderness. He brought me perfume and a gold chain that I wear always.
I never faltered. I kept myself just for him, curled up on the comfy sofa with the soft cushions, desperate for the rushed phone call or hurried text. Why would I go out when everything else was ashen compared to his vital passion?
Then she found out and he chose. I heard him telling her how little I meant to him as he dashed off back to the perfect wife. He left me behind with his spare razor and a coat and hat he forgot in the rush. I keep them hanging near the door and sometimes I spray them with his cologne. He is still the centre of my world, and I am empty without him, but there is nothing I can do. Because sometimes you lose.
