People I imagined on the worst day of my life

Who is there when no one is there

The weeks after my ex-husband left me were not what you might imagine. There were no floods of tears, glasses of wine, or watching Netflix with my mother and cursing his name. There was no grief, or sadness, or even shock. There was only injury. The pain was hot, hard, and constant. Each morning, it woke me up like a surgical patient. I’d spend the day walking from room to room, carrying this thing-on-fire that was my body. It is not possible to lay down a thing-on-fire and make it watch Netflix. I needed help. I had no family. I had no friends in the city. I had no one I dared fully…

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