a very resilient muscle…

Or tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or maybe not even next year, but maybe, someday, I might be happy:

 

After a couple of days of crying, angry rants and much soul-searching, Sachi finally picked up her broken heart and went home.  She admits she loves her husband and admits she “knows” men.  They easily trip into an affair and then after the sexual circus they revert back to their life, almost like they remove their head from their shoulders and become brainless and abundant all faithfulness.  They are a headless vessel with only a penis and a fantasy.

While Sachi’s two days at my place, she never once told me she hated her husband and many times she confessed she still loves him completely (but in the same breath) she says she can’t be used like a piece of trash and expect to bounce back as if nothing happened.  She needs payback.  I shared my opinion of that theory.  We are not in our twenties anymore.  We cannot live by the old adage “an eye for an eye”.  We’ve grown, matured and our desire for revenge, while very real, we have to be more subdued in showing our wrath.  We have to be sneaky almost invisible about payback…let our inner best actress come out.  No one needs to know that we are hurting and certainly no one needs to see it.  Time to act our age and hide everything but get our every bit of revenge on, just in a more savvy and unassuming way.  As we sat there and plotted the very diabolical but wounded animal plan of attack.

©  Pemberton Mackey 2016

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