She stared at the sink. The dirty dishes. Tears silently falling.
It was not a good morning. Instead just another mundane day.
He didn’t tell her she was beautiful, or even acknowledge the new dress.
The one she bought for a date night but just ended up wearing it around the house.
He was too tried. Too tried to try. Too busy to notice.
There was not one day she did not hear him bitch or morn.
Never a thank you or any sense of gratitude.
Rather than a gift, he treated her like an object. A part of his collection.
Just demands and expectations which there would be hell to pay if she didn’t listen.
Chasing other women when he was out or away.
Cheating was an entitlement in his claim with a right to abuse.
Holding her captive until one day, staring at the dishes,
Remembering the kindness that sparked a little different,
Lighting up a part of her heart she hadn’t even realized existed.
With soapy water still hot, she left them there.
Packed up her one last chore; her life all in a small suitcase.
It was that day, it was that day she walked away
With a new sense of life and self-worth,
And it was that day everything changed.