Everything Changes
by
Matthew T. Lipson
The week had been ... awful. Monday was her fortieth birthday, and the night of our worst argument. The details, which are forever imprinted in my brain, are unimportant except the fact our eldest, who was seven, was in the room. I exploded, as I had finally come to the end of my rope. This scared my wife, and, once I came to my senses, me too. We had come to an important crossroads, which could lead us either to heal our marriage or divorce. The Multiple Sclerosis could no longer be a consideration, or even financial repercussions. What was our relationship doing to our children? to me? By the end of the week, my anxiety attacks, depression, irrational anger had to be addressed. I had to leave. Friday, on my way home, I arranged to stay at a friend's house. When she asked me when I was coming back, I answered, "I'm not."
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