Summer Mourning

I remember when we had it all. This lake house was everything to us. I recall when you had it built. You called it our summer home. We couldn’t wait until vacation rolled around. A whole two weeks to ourselves. But that was before children, before your promotion, before your affairs. Sometimes I can’t believe you left me for her. It’s amazing what a few dollars can do to a person. Perhaps infidelity had always been carefully shrouded in your character, you just needed the right opportunity to act on it. Now that fine lines and wrinkles has carved it’s finger into my face, I look back and think it wasn’t all bad. I still have the lake house, and every morning I can stand on the dock and revel in this serenity. On lonely nights I wonder what we could  have been. When I check my cellphone, I find messages, of you, balling your eyes out in regret. As upstanding as I’d like to think myself, there is a tiny seed of joy knowing  you’re miserable. This must be what summer mourning feels like for you everyday.

©Copyright privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2016.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s