Two decades should be long enough to know someone, at least a little bit.
Two decades should qualify as long-suffering enough, too.
I am not sure if I’ve ‘run a good race’ or ‘fought a good fight’
I only know I am tired of running and fighting.
A finish line - one drawn in shifting sands- has been crossed.
There are no winners here.
Dim hope; miraculous restoration.
Of course, but oh-so-very dim.
We tried it already, I went all in.
You call it your biggest mistake, I’m not sure it will stick again.
Remember that post-it note analogy?
That was a fair and accurate warning.
For a long, long time - too long, my dear- I’ve been living by this law you wrote:
Prove me wrong, or I’m right.
Withheld pearls makes for suspicious swine.
But I am trampled every time.
“You live a secret, double life.
You’re a fraud.
No longer my wife.”
As you wish.
Today, I repent my my intentional duplicity, lay down my brush for silver lining .
You be you, no gloss added.
The windows and doors are open, I’ll not close them.
It is far too nice out there.
