Promises

 

I got you, he said. 

I trusted with my heart

We will have a great life.

I got you, he said.

 

I choose you, he said.

I held our baby in my arms

As he told me he loved porn. 

And that it doesn’t matter–

I choose you, he said.

 

I got you, he said.

I raised the kids

He slept through our cries 

He gave little smiles with distant eyes.

I got you, he said. 

 

I choose you, he said

Physically present, yet mentally gone.

I created our life.

Come with us, I would ask. 

Another time was always his reply.

I choose you, he said. 

 

I got you, he said. 

Avoiding bedtime routines and tuck-ins

Choosing games over time and touch

I got you, he said. 

 

I choose you, he said. 

Writing notes of plans that would never be.

Professing adoration for others to see

At night I would reach out and he was gone

I choose you, he said. 

 

I got you, he said

Over missed conversation and experiences. 

Those words carried so much hope.

I gripped onto the words to keep them from floating away.

I got you, he said. 

 

I choose you, he said. 

I would ask for time and feel disconnect 

He would go, if I planned.

I would ask questions with tears in my eyes.

Clenching his jaw and looking away, 

I choose you, he said. 

 

I got you, he said. 

The words escaped from my hand, 

Lifting away the empty promises.

I was left alone. 

I got me, I said.