I Hate the Stomach Flu

I hate the stomach flu.

I hate it, and I’m not even the one who succumbed to its power.

You were sick. You were laying in bed. You asked me to lay down with you and watch tv.

I should have said no.

I should have left.

But, both the brain and the heart saw the empty spot on the bed, my side which has been vacant since you asked me to go, and both jumped for joy.

So, I laid next to you, my husband, to watch a hockey game.

We’ve watched hockey games, side by side, while four presidents lived in the White House.

Some serving multiple terms.

Some games lasting multiple periods.

But now, with those big words looming over

Seperation

Divorce

The side by side, laying down, watching hockey games time has ended.

The whistle has blown, the stadium has gone dark and empty.

But because of the stomach flu,

You rubbed my back.

You held my hand.

You pressed yourself up against me.

It could have been habit.

It could have been the illness.

I could have pulled away.

I didn’t.

Now, I’m an addict who got her first hit out of rehab.

I’m chasing the dragon.

But, the game and the stomach bug have ended.

My side of the bed is empty once again.

And all I can think about is where I can get my next fix.

Time to head back to rehab.