Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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My Last Days As Someone's Wife

I optimistically thought we might head down to the courthouse together to sign the papers or some equally uniting yet unlikely scenario. Meet for coffee, scrawl signatures on whatever we need to sign and take the divorce documents to the bored government employee who pronounces the time of death on our ten years as husband and wife. Enduring the difficult day together in a nod to how it began a decade ago when just the two of us clutched shaky hands in the home of a judge willing to hitch us for $100. A tip of the hat to our past and a demonstration of our commitment to continue positively leading the family we created together.

I was naively aiming too high, I now realize.

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