So I’m semi-floating at the bottom of the pool looking up through the green tinged water thinking to my self, “I would really rather be anywhere but here” yet realizing that it was my own doing that put me in this predicament. I should have cleaned the house better and made his favorite dinner more often or even done that whole, greet ‘um at the door wrapped in Saran Wrap thing he kept bugging me about, but noooooo…it just wasn’t my nature.
He warned me often enough there could be consequences, but of course, my nature wasn’t to listen to a damn word that he said. The knack of smiling and nodding like I was paying attention, well that little trick I had perfected back in my teen years when my Mother would be on one of her rampages, but that is a whole ‘nother story.
Anyway, here I am at the bottom of the pool waiting for the end to finally arrive. They say that your life passes right before your eyes at the moment of death, and I kept looking around, but all I could see was sand on the tiled bottom (I guess I should have really cleaned the pool more often too) and floating pool toys and inner tubes on the surface above my head. This was really getting old and I wondered how much longer it was going to take. I mentally started and completed a list of things that I could possibly miss about being married to him once the end came, and seeing that there were none, this unseemly conclusion to the last five years of my life, became all the more apparent as being a felicitous decision.
With one final salutatory smile, I double checked the ever tightening knots on the concrete block weight, pushed off from the top of his head, and made my way to the surface and my new life alone.
On Location, Monday:
Anywhere but here