...then comes the end...

The glass that was shattered upon the floor was much easier to get off the ground than the nasty words that fell from his mouth on that last day of November. Those would take much more than the broom and dustpan she stowed away in the front closet to remove, toss in the trash to never discuss again.


Moments before, Chardonnay was being used in the sauce that was cooking on the stove (and toasted to "the future" in their glasses.) It was his favorite meal and she had had it planned since early morning when she went to the market, carefully checking items off her list as to not forget anything. She picked up a fresh baguette from the bakery and was certain this would remove the dark cloud that was in his heart and projected madness and hatred he seemed to have towards her.


There were kisses and canoodling all around the kitchen while the children peered over the granite counter, perched upon their barstools where they sat doing school work and smiling to see happy parents dancing about before them, preparing their dinner.


It was a typical production. A performance they rehearsed all too well and all too often. Putting on the proper show in front of the children as to not lose face. Keeping the smiles plastered to on their heads as if lying to themselves was simply that easy.


After the begs and negotiations on how the kids could go about eating chocolate ice cream for dessert, plates were cleared, bellies full and they were dismissed from the table to watch some show they'd been dying to see about dinosaurs that they all both loved and were terrified of.


As usual, she slides out the chair from below her and proceeds to start in on the massive mess that was made of the kitchen. Not a task she is overly joyed about but a job that needed done nonetheless.


Before the suds could fill up the wash sink, words were being slung around the main level that would require a bulletproof vest as to not be effected. It was a regular ol' western movie and she was directly in the line of fire to his rage and weapons.


As of lately, this was the life they were living. Both not saying much to one another, knowing everything had already been said at one point. The sadness and disappointment that filled their hearts for allowing this relationship to get to this degree only
poisoned the words coming from their mouths. Even if the words needing to be spoken were endearing and coming from a good place, the bitterness took over before they exited the mouth and left leaving a rotten aftertaste.


She felt defeated, depleted, and completely backed into a dark corner. She had built her entire empire upon a sand bottomed foundation that was crumbling before her eyes. She dreamt of stability and rock solid values but was left to grab at her belongings that were shaking all around her. She often described her home as a dark, damp cave and her relationship to the escape. She was clawing at the sides, trying to climb to the top, but only buried herself in the debris she was scraping from the inner walls. All that was left for memories was what she was able to dig out from under her fingernails.


She expected to stand tall after being knocked down all too many times before. She was expected to act a play, him as the director, always critiquing the words she used, the stances taken, the facial expressions gracing her face. She was broken up inside and heaving with pain that was not seen from the outside, for the smile upon her face (at his request).


She always did what was expected of her and far more than he could ever see, let alone appreciated. No pat on the back, no encouraging words, no reinforcing look that told her she was of any worth at all. She was always too young and too dumb and he was entirely too busy downgrading her humanity to ever take notice of all the wonderful qualities she possessed.


She made cleanliness and organization appear to be a breeze. It was second nature to her and she enjoyed being able to run the household in the way she did. She wasn't always patient but she made certain to manage her time as to not leave anyone in the family feeling neglected or any different than the next, which trying to run a blended family was very high on her list of priorities. There was time for her husband, time for her children, time for her home, and time for the daily grind. If there was any time left after that, she'd call an old friend or her father, whom was her best friend.


Her father was a gentle man with a golden heart. He was carefree, easy going, and a noble knight that still held the old fashioned ways deep inside of him that she was used to as a girl. He was always patient, always kind, always giving positive words of encouragement and love that literally reached out and enveloped her into a warm, sacred, secured cocoon. It was just her and her dad growing up, after her older brother went off to the military. The two of them were closer than most could comprehend and that bond left her feeling confident and collected when it came time to move on into a world of her own.


Growing up, her father worked very hard to provide for his family. When he wasn't working he would enjoy obsessing over his lawn. He hadn't a wife so his roles were a bit unconventional but his tactics not in the least. He lifted the heavy loads, he took the garbage out to the curb, he fixed what was broken and paused periodically to pull a Marlboro Red from his soft pack which he kept in the pocket tees he had in every color. He was muscular and yet thin. He was dark from the sun that kissed his skin all summer long, in the yard, where he found peace in the world. He was tall, cool, and had the softest blue eyes that could smile with grace when proud or pierce with anger when he was upset. He was a good man. The best she'd ever seen in that time, and had yet to find a man of comparison.


He taught her the life lessons to the best of his ability. He taught her to be kind, be creative, and mostly be happy. He only did one thing incorrectly while raising his daughter. He allowed her to believe that the majority of the population she would encounter along her life's journey would be cast from the same mold as he. However, that is not all what she found. People were not kind nor gentle. They were not honest. They wouldn't see her for the person she was but only as the person they wanted or needed her to be. She trusts too much, loves too deeply, and takes everything personal (which only ends up hurting her). She is naive, continually believing that for the most part, people are good at heart yet they seem to let her down.


Her night is spent on the front stoop of the house. Her body cold from being pressed against the concrete she silently sits upon. The lights from the neighbors place is casting shadows all around her that she can only make out to be creatures of the night that are thriving on her never ending intertwined thoughts of what took place before her in the kitchen just moments ago. She wipes warm tears from her eyes, breathes heavily and watches the white mist leave her mouth and enter into the dark atmosphere that surrounds her, taking on different shapes and morphing into the air and on a journey to begin of it's own. Repeatedly, breath after breath, inhaling, exhaling, wiping tears.


She picks herself up, dusts herself off, wipes the last tears from her eyes and the edges of her mouth slowly begin to curl upward. She closes the door behind her as she walks inside and feels the tension once again crawl up her neck. While in the house the air is so thick it could be have been used in the sauce earlier instead of the flour to make that perfect consistency.


She has never been much for religion but tonight, like many nights passed, she'll pray. She'll pray for comfort and kindness, for weakness and strength. She'll pray for those she loves and those she wishes she could hate. She'll pray for her family and pray for her friends. She'll continually pray for her marriage and she'll pray it never ends.
She'll pray for moments of happy and less of those that are sad. She'll pray for her ill tempered husband and she'll pray for having such an amazing dad. She'll pray for many things, she'll find strength with each prayer. She'll continually pray until there is nothing left to bare.


She'll focus her attention on what is good in this world. She'll find happiness from within. Because days go by, life goes on, and then that's the end.