The Me After

Sunday Night   

Sunday nights have always been the beginning and end all in one night.

The beginning of a new week with all of its unknown opportunities and chances to make life memorable.

It is the end of a weekend that no matter how we chose to spend it we now have the memories we've made both good and not so good.

I don't know what causes it, the feeling I get on Sunday night when things have settled down, it's quiet and peaceful. The temperature has dropped from the 150 degree summer days in Texas. We made it to October when its down right cold overnight, cool in the mornings, nice afternoons and back down to cold overnights and so on for the rest of the month.

    The thing about Sunday nights that seem to affect me the most are the memories I have from laying in his arms. The scent of a relaxing warm shower just before bed, the lavender candle on the bedside table giving my bedroom a soft warm glow. His heartbeat in my ear like the toy bear that soothed me when I was a little girl. His arm wrapped around me and our legs intertwined relaxing and unwinding. Thoughts going through my head trying to decide if I'm going to stir him up or just drift off to sleep.

It's the closeness of us laying there that filled my heart and soul. 

Now Sunday nights make me cry unexpectedly thinking about him laying with some other woman he would rather be with than me. Even tho he hurt me to my core more than once his are still the arms I wish I were laying in. Instead I wipe the tears rolling down my cheeks and try to make the painful vision disappear of him with someone else laying in his arms.

I have tried to get him out of my mind. I make myself remember the last time we were in bed and how I felt. That was the time when things changed for me. When I thought about it and how it made me feel I looked at him differently. He made me feel like it wasn't about love or feelings for me. It was purely reaching the end result for him and looking at me wasn't what he wanted. When he said "flip over" that's when he made it obvious. But if that wasn't enough when my gag reflex got triggered because he jammed it down my throat really showed me with no question what he thought of me. In the 17 years that we have had sex, when he wasn't locked up or we were split up, he never treated ME like that. As I laid on this chest that night I tried to tell myself no that wasn't like that, he didn't do that... But he DID. 

Shortly after that we split for what has became the last time.