Thursday, April 19, 2012

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
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,
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.
I had been searching for him, too,
finally admitting to myself
the love had never died
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
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,
yes, terribly afraid,
learning to be free of his grip.
I am going forward

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