Lately she sees only rage and scorn, even when he tries to hide it. The problem is not that they fell apart, no! It’s the fact that he will not talk about it. As long as it’s not what he wants to hear, it’s not subject for discussion.
Weary of the silence and tears, she tries one more time to see him, look deeply and find the man she married, but the folds of deceit and anger will not let light sip through. How do you begin to unravel years of togetherness? Often easier said than done.
Lost in the monotony of life, adapting to chaos becomes order perfected without effort, she continues each day, with only one thought in mind…let this day come and go. Caught off guard she calls out “Babes” then recoils in realization of her error, babes? That someone used to be, but has vanished from sight.
In his mind she’s the enemy, the one who wants to end it all… “After all you’re the one who’s tired…” his angry voice thunders, “I have not said I’ve had enough!”
“You are the one with elusive dreams and tired promises, the one wanting to divorce our family and flee.”
“But no!” she answers in her own defense, “I never said I was tired of our family; I am tired of you! I can’t bear a single day of rage any longer; why do you shout as though you would rather thump me than talk to me?” I look in your eyes and I see the rage. Rage has made itself at home in everything you do.
I could do a little more than this, but this much that I do is sapping my life away…