there is no justice in love. Signs were there before unwilling eyes Not the trite, cliche, no perfume no lipstick. His thoughts always somewhere else. Nod and smile while lost in mental conversation with someone else. Together but alone, both afraid to ask for different reasons. Family dinner, each of us engaged in our own conversations, his filled with daydreams, mine with questions. Where would the kids live? Who would they blame, hard to say? How many people know? “Mom can you pass the carrots?” , (our oldest, Sarah).
Which friends will I get keep. Which will cross the street when they see me? “Mom, guess what, guess what, ” (Josh, the little one.) “Mom, you’re not paying attention!” “Yes, hunny go ahead.” “Mom, guess what….....
Do I see her everyday? What does she look like? How old is she? “Alright kids, upstairs, homework, ” he said, up they went interrupting my train of thought.
“This is not fair,” I said when I knew they were gone. He said,” there is no justice in love.”