So I had my shoulder surgery last Thursday and along with it a steady supply of good pain forgetting drugs which pretty much explains why I have not been writing along with the fact that I am pretty much reduced to hunt and peck which is truly a pain in the ass. There you go…the longest sentence known to mankind.

Seems as though I am going to be wearing my new fashion accessory for at least another month which means that words are short and sweet…and I am not! This reminds me of when I broke my tailbone and had to carry around a blue rubber donut to sit on for six months and everyone assumed i had a terrible case of hemorrhoids. Let’s face it pain makes you grumpy and when you take meds to dull the pain you get constipation so everything kind of sucks all the way around…except girlfriends…who allow you to cry on their sofa about the state of your marriage, cover you with a nice warm blanket, and hold your heart for you while it is crumbling into a million pieces. And while B has been taking care of me his heart is not in it…he just wants to leave…and I can feel his heaviness in the air, between the sheets, and in his touch.

His girl friend (not girlfriend) of 33 years says “Really? Thirty years and now he wants to go? I mean, shit, most people cant make it 30 minutes! What makes it so unbearable at thirty years that he just can’t get over it?”

The only answer I can give is that he wants something else…he doesn’t know what…just anything but this. Anything that reminds him he is a perceived ‘failure’ at something as sacred as marriage.

And so….(this is where you write the end of the story because I’m too tired and need to take a happy pill) Besides, I bet your ending will be much better than mine.