My mind decided to take yet another trip down memory lane. I began thinking about Ron. I remember the days of us riding with the convertible top down in his Chrysler Sebring after school, listening to the oldies station and singing every song that air-waved through the speakers. If it was a song where there was a duet of a man and woman, I would sing the woman’s part and he the man’s part.
The many days of me self-sacrificing the things I wanted just to please him, were over and done. It’s all about me and only me at this point. I did all I could to keep things together. But I couldn’t continue to play the fool. Ron use to tell me he loved me like a fat kid who loved cake. I never doubted that he loved me; he just wasn’t in love with me. If he was, he wouldn’t have cheated. He allowed a certified diamond to leave his grasp, for some used costume jewelry.
Foolish At Forty
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