Dewy, Cheatum & Howe
I must radically sever the close connection I have with self-seeking, self-pity and dishonesty. What will I use to pay the retainer for the representation I will need to pursue this divorce? Willingness is the earnest money, which will start the ball rolling, hard work pitches in its share and faith pays the note each day I apply it. All this and more is what it takes to divide the endless stream of my compulsive thought into a survivable days worth of life. I have the prospect of being happy as a divorcee or I could be a miserable widow if I stay wed to my disease.
Try not to be the exception to everything
If promise shatters without anyone touching it,
If it pops like a floating soap bubble that lost cohesion,
What do I do–name names–I can’t even take fingerprints.
Sometimes dreams just end–no fault or blame is attached.
The ice breaks under its own weight
And nothing can be done.
I am more than just holding on.
I am alive even if all the promises melt away.
I can accept the unexpected and unasked for.
I know this doesn’t affect my worth.
My value is intact regardless of disappointment or discontent.
I have learned that anticipation is mere amusement.
Promises are pleasantries
I am made of stronger stuff.
I am not broken by words, ideas or hope.
Promise can be broken
But it doesn’t break me.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault