Choices

Choices

It was not meant to be like this, to fail, 
to end in this manner. But it was destined 
to. Misjudged, quite obviously so. How 
was she to know his pathology of social
estrangement that merely seemed a 
minor aversion to overt, unearned perhaps 
presumed and impudent confidence 
in a personal context offended him? 
She admired the restraint of his personality, 
for she was, after all, too casual,  too 
anxious to be friendly to everyone. Intimacy
with her alone on his part seemed flattering. 
She chafed over the years at the uneven 
sentiments of their emotional bond, but 
obeyed his edicts, issued after all with her 
best interests uppermost in mind. The 
established routine of constraints upon 
her freedoms seemed a small sacrifice 
for the security of the marital covenant. 
And then of course there were the
children to be considered. And she did. No 
relaxation of the unchallenged roles he 
imposed. They grew, multiplied in numbers, 
urgency and depth. Now retired, he sits idle 
like a medieval potentate, glowering, 
pronouncing, issuing dicta. She ponders 
the fragment of dignity left to her shredded 
humanity through the exercise of free will.