When I Came Back From My Honeymoon

One day your adversary will have a bigger problem than you

When Debi went on her honeymoon, I could finally think. The On Our Backs workload was still enormous, the bills daunting, my health shitty— but the great relief of not humoring Bridezilla was a tonic. No tip-toeing, no fragile egg that might turn into a grenade. My lungs filled with air.

I still felt guilty— shitty that I was in thrall with such a beautiful woman, but that I couldn’t stand her requirements any longer. With Deb out of town, I could least say it out loud.

Did she know we were saying good-bye?

© HL Cottrell 1990