She

She felt like a fool.  Her predetermination had not caused the effect she desired.  She watched the twinkle of the candle light through the holes of thread in her shower curtain.  The warm water was calming, but the disappointment clung to her like the mist that surrounded her. 

She had gone out of her way to buy the same shampoo that she had used in high school, remembering the sweet floral smell; she once believed to be seducing.  However, twelve years later, it only smelled cheap. She bought it, wanting the scent to take her back to her past when during the intimate time she showered she would day dream and hope to find love; to be loved.  Many a day her “quick” shower would turn into a magical daydream of chivalrous men wooing her, promising her eternal love and marital bliss; these dreams ended only when she was shocked to reality as the hot water ran cold from depletion.  After being married, she wasn’t hoping for such unrealistic fantasies; she was just hoping for a day dream where someone would finally love her the way she loved.

She was lonely, very lonely and ironically enough the two beautiful children she had, who climbed on her all day, only seemed to magnify the extreme void she felt in the evenings when she was finally alone with herself.  As she stood under the cascading water, closing her eyes to the flickering of the shadows she tried to slow her mind.  It was not fantastical pool boys or experimental youth that she thought about.  Instead, her mind kept coming back to the husband with whom she was separated.  Try as she might, it was still him who occupied her thoughts and heart despite the pain he has caused her.  Even though it had gotten to the point where she desired to send a hand to slap his face and although she screamed the hate she felt towards him, he still managed to remain entangled in her very being, and again she felt like a fool.  He had no remorse for all the pain he had caused her and even when she had given him chance after chance, he choose not to change the hurt he caused, which resulted in their inevitable separation.  So why, why was it she could not move on?  Why did every day have to hurt just as much as the day before?

Slowly she turned off the water and grabbed the soft baby yellow towel that wrapped around her wet nakedness.  Despite the failed desire of the shower, she was at least clean and anymore that in and of itself was something to be grateful for now that her role as mother expanded into other realms as she did her best to make up for the slack her husband caused. 

She pondered her predicament further as she turned on the lights and blew out the candles to dress in one of his old shirts that had become pajamas for her long ago.  Maybe she couldn’t let him go because despite what she told herself and others, she still believed with therapy he could become the person he once was: the man she had been proud to call her husband.  Yet, there was no desire or evidence of change, so why did she still hope for the proverbial “what if?” 

She watched her plump reflection in the mirror as she brushed the tangles out of her wet, shoulder-length hair.  As she watched herself she tried as always to quiet the negative thoughts that taunted her about her looks and failures, as if she had somehow pushed him away with all her horrendousness.

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind of such cancerous thoughts.  At least she can mark off this day as done.  One more day she survived.