Unfinished art

Five years ago, we had a vision of a beach themed home in a warm gated community in the comfort of other families.

We took strolls around, or my husband did as I collected different interior designs that would compliment both of our styles.

Minimalism is his go-to and I love simplicity; warm white walls get me all mellow inside and his choice of items for the decor makes the room perfect.

You can breathe, you can move; it’s our zen space.

In the process, we purchased a beautiful platinum Toyota Highlander with all its elegance, and safety nets to be our family car.

All this whirled up in my mind now seated on our couch in blush color and him on the glass table holding hands in search of comfort.

It happened again.

The bleeding could not stop despite being kind to my body over the years.

I cried myself to sleep last night at the bathroom floor after the damage, and this morning the big red patch on my inner wear refreshed my memory.

Looking into his concerned eyes, I felt caged in his broken heart and no weep compared to the silence between us. 

He never knew what to say and I never blamed him. I was speechless too and no longer knew how to live anymore.

The chains that bound us together were rusted away.

We had everything we wanted ready, but the one thing we desired, on ice.

I had a  butchered womb that ridiculed our marriage and I had taken the last straw and couldn’t pick up any more pieces.

In sense of denial, right there on the seat we decided to bring in a piece to the puzzle.

We poured our empty words to the universe, made some calls and lay there in silence.

Amazing what life could throw at us.

And now, barely in sync with reality, another woman would give my husband hope to leave his legacy.

And not me!

Happy Reading 💚

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The Sun and Her Flowers

Image Credits to:  Arnel Hasanovic

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