Maybe It Just Stopped Being Good

Maybe he didn’t love me from the beginning. Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted his mother’s engagement ring. Maybe he didn’t mean it when he held me close. Maybe I expected too much of him. Maybe we shouldn’t have bought that house, built the barn, so carefully tended the chickens and sheep, the roses and raspberries. Maybe we shouldn’t have moved to India. Maybe if I hadn’t needed him to help me take care of my mother. Maybe if he had been different. Maybe if I had been. Maybe not. But maybe. — Judith Edmister