No Luck at All

 (Picture found on Google Images)

At 17 we dated,

then we did not.

Why, when I had never loved like that?

We dated for a day at 24 or 25,

a day I did not want.

Sometimes I would get a rare visit

or call,

once a letter,

but I rebuffed again and again.

Then I married

a man from church

a man who was too attentive 
had sparkling eyes.

Ignoring what I knew in my heart and mind
until I needed something
help

I went to the counselor at church

in fear

I cannot remember what I told her.

She said she could not help

I needed someone with more education

more knowledge

a therapist,

now!

Puzzled, I put that suggestion away.

He would never allow that.

More years drag me along

I was frantic

fear relentless

panic all around.

I found the therapist

and went.

She talked with me

the children

and interviewed him.

Puzzling because it was

not the kind of thing he would do

in his eyes there was 
never anything wrong

with him.

Always someone else's fault

at work

at church

the kids

but most often mine.

She talked with him for an hour

a full hour

then spoke with me the next week.

He was a sick man she said,

one who would never be well.

Diagnosis sociopath.

There was no hope for him

and frighteningly,

for me.

We could divorce

but I would never be free

she said

unless he found someone else

to victimize

or died.

What kind of luck was this?

I refused the only man I'd loved

married a man I thought was ok
because I met him at church

now trapped

till death do us part.

Trying planning

to get away

but never could work it out.

He watched so thoroughly

it was creepy and

I knew leaving was not safe

The man I loved at 17 found me.

Funny,

I had been searching for him, too,

finally admitting to myself

the love had never died

ever

He was married.

Another blow to the head and heart.

Luck? There is no such thing.

Death finally came

finding that man I'd married

lived under

been so afraid of

for more than 20 years

seated on the couch,

an empty shell.

I could not stop staring at the

gray skin

unseeing eyes

fearing he would sit up

and say

it was all a joke.

I stared through the police and paramedics

questions

wanting medicine bottles

calling the morgue for me.

They were so kind

but did not understand.

Thinking I was in shock

they kept suggesting I go out of the room

until they were finished.

I went into the living room

where the kids were wondering what happens next

all of us finding it hard to believe

it was over.

Did my luck finally change?

No, I decided.

Luck is a myth.

My mistakes and decisions

inability to act on my own behalf,

a remnant of controlled childhood,

were the things responsible for the way

my life was.

No luck, nothing lucky.

It just was what it was.

Now, I was equipped by life

to make strong decisions.

Still fearful,

anxious,

yes, terribly afraid,

learning to be free of his grip.

I am going forward

slowly.