part of a couple, she seemed to be out of place at friends’ Christmas parties or backyard barbecues. A few friends remained, though, and she heard from them on her answering machine, suggesting that they set up a lunch date or come over for dinner. Occasionally she would go, but usually she made excuses not to. To her, none of those friendships seemed the way they used to, but then of course they weren’t. Things changed, people changed, and the world went rolling along right outside the window.
Since the divorce there had been only a handful of dates. It wasn’t that she was unattractive. She was, or so she was often told. Her hair was dark brown, cut just above her shoulders, and straight as spider silk. Her eyes, the feature she was most often complimented on, were brown with flecks of hazel that caught the light when she was outside. Since she ran daily, she was fit and didn’t look as old as she was. She didn’t feel old, either, but when she looked in the mirror lately, she seemed to see her age catching up with her. A new wrinkle around the corner of her eye, a gray hair that seemed to have grown overnight, a vaguely weary look from being constantly on the run.
Her friends thought she was crazy. “You look better now than you did years ago,” they insisted, and she still noticed a few men eyeing her across the aisle in the supermarket. But she wasn’t, nor ever would be, twenty-two again. Not that she would want to be, even if she could, unless, she sometimes thought to herself, she could take her more mature brain back with her. If she didn’t, she’d probably get caught up with another David—a handsome man who craved the good things in life with the underlying assumption that he didn’t have to play by the rules. But dammit, rules were important, especially the ones regarding marriage. They were the ones a person was never supposed to break. Her father and mother didn’t break them, her sister and brother-in-law didn’t, nor did Deanna and Brian. Why did he have to? And why, she wondered as she stood in the surf, did her thoughts always come back to this, even after all this time?
She supposed that it had something to do with the fact that when the divorce papers finally arrived, she felt as if a little part of her had died. That initial anger she felt had turned to sadness, and now it had become something else, almost a dullness of sorts. Even though she was constantly in motion, it seemed as if nothing special ever happened to her anymore. Each day seemed exactly like the last, and she had trouble differentiating among them. One time, about a year ago, she sat at her desk for fifteen minutes trying to remember the last spontaneous thing she’d done. She couldn’t think of anything.
The first few months had been hard on her. By then the anger had subsided and she didn’t feel the urge to lash out at David and make him pay for what he had done. All she could do was feel sorry for herself. Even having Kevin around all the time did nothing to change the fact that she felt absolutely alone in the world. There was a short time when she couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours a night, and now and then when she was at work, she would leave her desk and go sit in her car to cry for a while.
Now, with three years gone by, she honestly didn’t know if she would ever love someone again the way she had loved David. When David showed up at her sorority party at the beginning of her junior year, one look was all it took for her to know she wanted to be with him. Her young love had seemed so overwhelming, so powerful, then. She would stay awake thinking about him as she lay in her bed, and when she walked across campus, she smiled so often that other people would smile back whenever they saw her.
But love like that doesn’t last, at least that’s what she found out. Over the years, a different kind of marriage emerged. She and David grew up, and apart. It became hard to remember the things that had
Since the divorce there had been only a handful of dates. It wasn’t that she was unattractive. She was, or so she was often told. Her hair was dark brown, cut just above her shoulders, and straight as spider silk. Her eyes, the feature she was most often complimented on, were brown with flecks of hazel that caught the light when she was outside. Since she ran daily, she was fit and didn’t look as old as she was. She didn’t feel old, either, but when she looked in the mirror lately, she seemed to see her age catching up with her. A new wrinkle around the corner of her eye, a gray hair that seemed to have grown overnight, a vaguely weary look from being constantly on the run.
Her friends thought she was crazy. “You look better now than you did years ago,” they insisted, and she still noticed a few men eyeing her across the aisle in the supermarket. But she wasn’t, nor ever would be, twenty-two again. Not that she would want to be, even if she could, unless, she sometimes thought to herself, she could take her more mature brain back with her. If she didn’t, she’d probably get caught up with another David—a handsome man who craved the good things in life with the underlying assumption that he didn’t have to play by the rules. But dammit, rules were important, especially the ones regarding marriage. They were the ones a person was never supposed to break. Her father and mother didn’t break them, her sister and brother-in-law didn’t, nor did Deanna and Brian. Why did he have to? And why, she wondered as she stood in the surf, did her thoughts always come back to this, even after all this time?
She supposed that it had something to do with the fact that when the divorce papers finally arrived, she felt as if a little part of her had died. That initial anger she felt had turned to sadness, and now it had become something else, almost a dullness of sorts. Even though she was constantly in motion, it seemed as if nothing special ever happened to her anymore. Each day seemed exactly like the last, and she had trouble differentiating among them. One time, about a year ago, she sat at her desk for fifteen minutes trying to remember the last spontaneous thing she’d done. She couldn’t think of anything.
The first few months had been hard on her. By then the anger had subsided and she didn’t feel the urge to lash out at David and make him pay for what he had done. All she could do was feel sorry for herself. Even having Kevin around all the time did nothing to change the fact that she felt absolutely alone in the world. There was a short time when she couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours a night, and now and then when she was at work, she would leave her desk and go sit in her car to cry for a while.
Now, with three years gone by, she honestly didn’t know if she would ever love someone again the way she had loved David. When David showed up at her sorority party at the beginning of her junior year, one look was all it took for her to know she wanted to be with him. Her young love had seemed so overwhelming, so powerful, then. She would stay awake thinking about him as she lay in her bed, and when she walked across campus, she smiled so often that other people would smile back whenever they saw her.
But love like that doesn’t last, at least that’s what she found out. Over the years, a different kind of marriage emerged. She and David grew up, and apart. It became hard to remember the things that had