I stand in the middle of the road, fighting for the last good thing in my life. It’s hopeless. The church where we met is going to be the graveside witness of my last attempt to piece together my life.
“Let me make sure I understand this correctly. You have no interest in pursuing anything with me at this point? Not even a friendship? Because even friends communicate.”
“At this point, it’s not important to me-”
I put up my hand to stop her. “Words and actions match, this is over.”
“I’m too old for this playground psychology. You want out, here’s your out. Goodbye-”
I turn and walk toward my truck. In the distance, I can feel her eyes upon me. Walking away is the last hard thing I will do.
“You’re going to throw away a good friendship because I have no interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with you?”
“Yep, I told you I would.”
So goes another failed attempt at trying to piece together my desire to have something meaningful with another person. It collapses into a burning pile of rubble.
It’s time to cut out the desire to be with someone. I did it before, I will do it again. Besides it takes two to try. I am singular in my feeling to build a life with someone.
The walk to my truck is painful, the drive home is worse. Being rejected is a most painful experience. To know that you could have something great with someone and then watch them discard you like last week’s garbage is heartrending.
So it goes.
I pull into my dark driveway and sit in the truck for a moment. It feels as if my entire world has been doused in gasoline and lit on fire with a broken match. The moon has come out from behind Pikes Peak. It’s a beautiful sight, but the moon looks lonely.
My marriage is over. I tried, I failed. It’s just another victim of exigent circumstances. The moon in its fullness appears to be shedding a tear for me.
“Funny, I would cry but I can’t, but the moon has me covered.”
Little did I know, this process would be the end result of every relationship I attempt to have in the future.
A bleak future indeed.