There are days when I miss my marriage and I cannot keep the tears away.  I may be riding in the car listening to the radio and a certain song blares at me.  One of many.  A shocker is when the song that was played for our “First Dance” comes on and I listen to the words yet again.  They foretell a tragic ending.  It makes me wonder what we were thinking.  At other times, in the middle of the night, I may be watching a movie.  The list goes on and on.  And, the longer I am single and stay away from even looking for a new man in my life, the more lonely I feel.  I don’t have to have a man in my life but, so often, would love someone to share things with and who doesn’t want to be loved?  As for green leather, it is one of the strongest memories I have of who the person I married really was and one I was not aware of at the time.  I remember the day I arrived at the house we had built together after nine straight hours of being strapped to a desk to find my husband waiting for me in nothing but his underwear and a bright, slime green leather snowmobile jacket.  I wondered why he had bought it as he didn’t have a sled to ride on at the time.  Another story.

He took it off and handed it to me and I nearly fell to  the floor it was so heavy.  I could not lie.  I could not tell him it was beautiful.  He looked good in anything but the jacket was cringeworthy.  I just skirted the issue and started cutting up vegetables.  In the meantime, he sat on the clay tile floor in the kitchen and actually sulked over the fact that I was not drooling over the $350.00 jacket, while cradling it in his arms.  Back in that day, it was a lot of money, especially when you were still sleeping in a bedroom with a plywood floor.  I believe I did make a remark about the tone of the jacket’s color and that just finished him off.  He cried.  I felt horrible but, at the same moment, spotlights (not lightbulbs) went off in my brain.  How could he be so caught up in this murky colored jacket?  And, did it matter what I thought?  I guess it did more than I knew.  Was it one of the things that led to the downfall of my marriage?  To anyone on the outside, they might think me uncaring that I did not lie about how I felt to make him happy?   Or, was he so insecure that he needed me to tell him he had made the right decision over a piece of clothing?  Was I wrong to be concerned about the cost because we were spending every penny on the house…..and this had been his decision.  I had gone along with everything he ever wanted to do so, perhaps, it was my fault he expected my faultless opinion on everything?  It is still a mystery to me.  If you have any answers for me, please respond.  I would love to have new insight on this and hear your thoughts!

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