Her words felt like body blows, deep into the pit of his stomach.
Each sentence brought helplessness and fear.
“I don’t think I can ever love you again”.
“Right now I would rather live alone”.
“For ten years I have felt tense whenever you are around”.
Overwhelmed by the flood of measured rejection,
he began to drown in his own anguish
He, normally so vocal, now almost speechless,
his only utterance; pathos.
A condemned criminal pleading for mercy against deserved punishment,
“But you never told me”.
His feeble excuse for crimes evident to all but him.
Selfishness, slothfulness, aggressiveness,
built layer upon layer, year after year.
Under the burden of his thoughtlessness, she had long carried her love.
Felt it crushed by him, day on day, not daring to voice rebuke.
Once life without him was unthinkable,
now she struggled to imagine him in her life that lay ahead.
Affection for him long ago replaced by indifference.
Not cruel.
Still gentle, mindful of unnecessary pain.
The blows she struck were not perverse retribution.
More recognition that his newfound efforts were not enough.
Enforced actions and fragrant flowers now superficial tokens,
too late he sought redemption,
through clumsy action and claustrophobic attention.
“Is this the end?”
He asked, in quiet desperation.
She, ever kindly did not crush him,
which with a simple, “yes”, she could have done.
She granted them more time together.
For him to put to natural action, his commitment.
For her to replace the long silence,
with voiced admonishment.
But, within her, there was no great hope.
Reflections 