I Chose Me

When a woman’s fed up, there ain’t much you can do about it. For each time he dropped his dirty laundry on the floor after I’d take my time to clean the entire house. For every time I had surgery and he dropped me at the hospital to go work, despite having…

I Chose Me

For every time he got in the car without opening my door like he used to.

For every time he walked ahead of me allowing a door.

For hiding our money.

For each time he left the empty roll of toilet paper on the roll without changing it.

For leaving dirty bathtubs and toilets you soiled for me to clean.

For leaving me stranded on the side of the road when my car broke down, choosing work over me.

When he didn’t help me with the children.

For the fleecing of his flocks.

For each time he said, “that’s not his job.”

For each time he dropped his dirty laundry on the floor after I’d take my time to clean the entire house.

For each time he made big ticket decisions and didn’t get my input.

For each time he went to bed without touching me.

For each time he came home late without calling.

For every time he shot me down because I wanted to do something new, because he didn’t

For not standing up for me.

For every time I wore something new and he never noticed.

For every time I contemplated a heavy life decision and he shot it down.

For each time I put my dream off to help him achieve his.

For making me change.

For changing me.

For all the long days I spent slaving over meals and cleaning our home and you weren’t appreciative.

For the gaslighting.

For no empathy.

For the emotional abuse I didn’t deserve.

For all the times he put his family over his wife.

For his disrespectful, bratty children.

For forgetting.

For every time he let the mail pile up, waiting for me to sort it like I was his secretary.

For every time I had surgery and he dropped me at the hospital to go work, despite having plenty of sick leave time and being the boss.

For never cooking us a meal, and for never thinking I deserved a break from slaving over the stove.

For not paying attention.

For twisting my words.

For luring me back, and not changing.

For being a respecter of status.

For succumbing to racism.

For never planning a vacation.

For being cheap.

For the shitty way he proposed.

For forgetting to tell me about a wife.

For saying there was something wrong with the exes, never him.

For the worse, when he pledged before our old God to be better.

For his blind, thick and thin family, in all his wrong.

For putting work over us.

For each time he got angry because I wouldn’t (or couldn’t) help you with the debts from your last marriage.

For the first staying first, and for the last always coming in last.

For all the times you never thanked me.

For not being my spiritual covering.

For not being the head when times got tough.

For being too lazy to read.

For your weakness.

For always relying on my brains.

For peace.

For joy.

For sanity.

For the love of me.

For all these reasons I have no regrets for leaving. I just wish I’d done sooner.

Because misery doesn’t look good on me.

I chose me.

Marley K. 2018