She said every moment is important and that she didn’t regret being with him. My rage drowned her out as she went on about me being the only one for her now. The slamming door was my solace, my exclamation mark on the conversation which I had barely added to.

Every moment is important, but that doesn’t mean every moment has to be experienced or shared. The sidewalk turned to grass as the street ended, I didn’t realize how far I’d walked. Over my shoulder I couldn’t even see our house anymore.

Looking out into the field I could see nothing that mattered, the sun setting behind some trees evoked nothing. I raised my head and tried to care about the orange and yellow streaked sky, or the brilliance of the clouds, but I found nothing but bitterness. How dare the world be so beautiful while I hurt so much.

Every moment is important, but that doesn’t mean she had to tell me everything. I was content in my ignorance. Content, but not happy. A deep breath of evening air, another, and another.

Time to go home.