If what it takes to prevent divorce is a brand new absurd pet name sung from three feet away, "Hi, honeybunches!" and the new courtesy of asking before he devours my take-out leftovers, then all my worries and disappointments are over.
Again, I have been courted with a glazed donut, which leaves me to wonder if he thinks I need to put on some weight or if the way to my heart is through the gluttonous consumption of baked goods. Was there a donut around when he proposed, and I just can't recall it?
My dog, Gizmo, and I spent yesterday, and the better part of today in bed, snoring and staring into space. I again refused to partake in the family gathering of Thanksgiving, which I fear is being misunderstood as selfishness (why would I deprive my loved ones of my sunshiny personality) and immature (when is she going to just accept it and move on?) Get back to her old self?
I do not wish to be selfish or immature. And I have no way, no possible way, to get back to my old self. That woman is lying six feet under with her arms wrapped around her firstborn. This shell that walks around, this ghost, is someone different, entirely.
I cannot stand the person I have become when surrounded with happy people, who laugh and eat and gaze upon their children at will. I turn into an ugly, shriveled, bitter soul who is consumed with covetous thoughts and burning jealousy. I would rather keep such unkindness to myself. But mainly, I suppose- selfish if you say so- I want to avoid that empty chair...space unfilled forever. It is too much to swallow past, even with turkey and dressing. Just like the cemetery, these final truths only make me angry, vengeful, and frankly, a little dangerous. I will avoid.
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