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sometimes you cool down and stop thinking about the dough worries breathing down your neck and you sit in your home and you ponder:
doing this with the spouse in the other room was a comfort
it meant that she was with a holder of a place, a safe cove, a rock...
until it wasn't
she thinks about it all the time yet less than before
it seems lonely and place holding day killing time moving forward the dial
before, it was different. it was the loss of a stability, the loss of a place, the lost of harbour.
him being there was what was missed.
often he could be the robber of solitude without providing company.
we did best in routines.
she remembered today that she made breakfasts and enjoyed the place very much. She also so enjoyed the investment the structure.
it was hard to admit she loved him because that hurt worse.
recalling his greasy long hair and the name-calling and the ugly horrid finality of all of it.
hard for her to be anything but survival to the next day.
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