What if?

There comes a time in all of our lives where it's time to walk away. Time to let go, and time to realize that fighting anymore, and hurting anymore just isn't worth it. That's one of the hardest calls you will ever make in your life. It's saying to yourself, and the other person, what we have isn't worth it. It eliminates future changes, future laughter, and future memories. But it also eliminates future pain, future heartache, and future let downs. If you ask me, it's a fine line that we dance. There may be hurt, and disappointment right now, but how much worse do we let it get? How long is the rocky, dark, and pothole-filled road? For how long do we traverse it? When do we decide it's time to get off at this exit, and try a different route?

    I don't have that answer friends. In fact, I don't have many answers. I sit here writing while my wife is in the back room packing her things, getting ready to leave. She will go to the greyhound bus station, get on a bus, and in a few weeks, maybe a month, I'll receive a manilla envelope in the mail. Inside that envelope will be a stack of papers, with a staple in the upper left-hand corner. Perhaps there will be colored tabs on different pages, where i'm supposed to sign my name. Maybe there will even be a pen, but that's doubtful. On these stapled pages, that came in the manilla envelope, will be words. Words that take the past almost year, and break it down into legalese. It will turn the memories, such as the time we drove up into the hills, and sat and looked at the lights of the city until late into the night. It will take the laughter, Such as the time we watched her favorite movie, and I made her laugh until she cried. It will take the whispered secrets that came in the middle of the night, when one of us would roll over, and always knowing the other would be there. It will take the occasional tears, it will take the times shared, and it will take the things done together, and turn them into nothing more than ink spots on a stack of neatly stapled papers in a manilla envelope.

   When I receive that manilla envelope, with the neat staple in the upper left hand corner, and the colored tabs, it will be a slap in the face. I will sit, and I will remember. I will be saddened that it has come to this, but I won't cry. I will sit, I will remember, and I will be thankful. For the memories, and the laughter, and the tears. For the times we didn't agree, and the times we fought over something stupid. No one is in your life forever, and if you ask me, we should look at that as a beautiful opportunity. To live to the fullest, to make the most of our memories, and to make the people in our lives laugh as hard as we can, to breath as deep as we can, and to love as hard as we can.

  It does me no good to wonder "what if".