Silver linings…A short story….

As I glanced around my cabin, I became overwhelmed by the enormity of my task. “Who do I think I am, to have undertook writing a novel? I don’t understand the formation process or even the made-up rules of dialogue. I’ve winged every piece of writing from my broken mind.” Art is placed on the cedar walls of my home, a penciled piece of birch trees in winter, a black and white photo taken from 1966, and more should have inspired me, but I am lost.

A knock at my door caused me to pause and shift focus. I glanced out the blinds and noticed the brown UPS truck in my driveway. I opened the door, and the driver smiled at me.

“Hi. I need your signature for this package.” The driver was a cute brunette, about 5 feet tall, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her eyes were a deeply pale blue. I couldn’t help but notice she was a complete package herself.

“Sure thing. Have you had a good day?” She shrugged her shoulders and forced a smile. Those blue eyes locked with mine and then she turned her head away.

“It has gone as it was supposed to go, I reckon. Sometimes, our cards are trashed and we gotta throw ‘em back in the pile.”

“Yeah, not every hand we’re dealt is a winning hand,” I said. “Yet, I have been told that behind every dark cloud hides a silver lining.”

Her teeth flashed a quick smile and then she handed me the device for me to sign.

 “Is there a silver lining to being divorced? Have you ever been treated like you weren’t enough? He tossed me in the trash with the rest of the crap he no longer wanted.”

I took the stylus and signed my name on the screen and handed her the device back. I paused and took a moment to find the words to respond to her query. A lone tear trickled down her left cheek and she wiped it away and sighed.

“Yes ma’am, I have walked that road before. The silver lining takes a while to be revealed, but there is one in divorce. When you’ve recovered yourself, you will have found the prize at the end of the darkness.”

Her blue eyes seemed to grow transparent, and they showed the pain in her heart. “Has it taken you long to recover yourself? How long did the timeline seemed to take?” Her voice seemed to be quieted by her inner chaos.

“It took me years to recover from the horrible things we said to each other. Even when I had moved past what was said, I still couldn’t find it in myself to believe I was worthy of a second chance at love. So, it could be said I’m still not recovered fully from the pain of divorce.”

“So, my life has passed me by? I don’t get another opportunity to feel validated?”

“I didn’t say that, what I’ve simply tried to point out is that the work is yours to do. You must put the work in to fully recover from the pain. Once you’ve recovered, then you will be able to risk it all again.”

She sighed and rubbed her hand across her face. A forced smile crossed her freckled face and she nodded her head. “Thanks for being kind and having listened to my troubles,” she whispered quietly.

“No problem. It’s the least I could do.” As I watched her get into her vehicle and drove away, I considered my own situation.

“Maybe, it’s time I took my own advice.”

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