#1b The Morning After

Morninglight crept softly into the room, gradually becoming bright enough to peek beneath my eyelids. I lay there in that half sleep for a moment, knowing that any movement would immediately awaken Max who still slept soundly on the floor beside my bed.

He hadn't returned.

My mind began to sort through how I would go on living without him. At one time I'd thought that was impossible but the truth was that it was entirely possible. And most likely probable.

Max was having one of his "woofy" dreams. He laid there with legs slightly moving as though he was running after a squirrel or a ball, letting out muffled barks. I was thankful for his presence, especially now.

As I pushed the blankets back, Max jumped to attention and came to me. "Good morning, sweetheart", I whispered as I patted his gleaming black coat. They say dogs can't smile but I swear he does. His tail wagged happily as he followed me into the kitchen where I made my first coffee of the day. He stayed very close, sensing I wasn't strong yet.

I'd slept late, worry and misery taking it's toll on my physical strength as well as the mental. "9:15!". Thank heavens it was Sunday and not a work day. I made my coffee and bundled up on the sofa, Max's head on my lap. It amazed me how this animal was so tuned into my despair and intent on doing what he could to comfort me.

He hadn't come back. So now what do I do? There'd been no happiness between us for weeks, months maybe, and he'd become more verbally abusive. Last night was a good example of how bad it had gotten between us. He'd flirted openly with the woman at the next table, talking with her and ignoring me to the point of embarrassment. I'd told him to take me home and, stone faced, he walked ahead of me to the car.

"Why do you treat me this way?" I'd screamed at him as we drove. He'd looked directly at me and replied, "If you don't like it then bugger off"...this said in a soft, icy voice. "Maybe I should" I said. "Maybe I will"...this said in a soft, sad voice.

When we reached the house he'd stormed up to the bedroom and hurriedly packed a few clothes. I stood silently by and watched, heartbroken but feeling something else, too...finality. This time I wouldn't beg him to stay. He brushed rudely by me as he left. "See how well you can get along without me, you stupid cow!"

I watched as he walked out the door and stood listening as his car screeched out of the driveway and away.

Now it was the morning after and I was still in pain but at least able to look at the situation more clearly. Ann Landers used to say "Are you better off with him or without him?". I'd come to believe that I might possibly be better off without him. And today was the first day of the rest of my life.