my sad poem

After a week filled with a field trip, a wedding, 147 7th graders, and two late evenings, I spent last night on “downtime.” Barefoot, sans makeup, glasses and sweats on the couch getting caught up on all the shows that I DVR’d and haven’t watched. BTW – DVR – great invention. Tape loads of stuff, watch just a bit.
--So I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy (hey, I wish Dr. McDreamy would Mcrip my clothes off and have his Mcway with me), and something funny happened. I laughed and turned to share it –
and remembered that I was alone.
Don’t get me wrong – I don’t miss Voldemort – but I miss having some other body here.

I don’t miss the dirty clothes dropped randomly around the house,
But I miss the smell of his shirt,
Sometimes I miss it so much it hurts.

I don’t miss the accusations and hateful words
But I miss the playful banter
And shared jokes.

I don’t miss walking on eggshells and broken glass,
Waiting for the next eruption,
But I miss hearing someone else’s footsteps in the house.

I don’t miss the money battles,
The "giving in" instead of "compromising,"
But I miss having someone to share the financial concerns.

I don’t miss the way he could make me seem bad, fat, ugly, stupid, mean, selfish, weak, sad, and inferior.
But I miss the way he could make me feel.