February 8

     Finally, information from the black hole.  After nearly 5 weeks, He spoke to me today.  The conversation lasted about maybe a minute -- He was on a speaker phone with His "family" psychiatrist, and I guess you could say there was an agenda.  The gist being He will be leaving said facility in six days; His sister will be arriving and will help Him find a place to live; He will be seeking a divorce from me; He wants no contact with me.  Well, that's that.  I cannot help to wonder how somehow, He has turned Himself into some sort of victim here.  I must say, I was a bit stunned.  I was actually expecting, well, an apology.  For ... anything, everything, making my life hell, all the horrible things He has said and done.  Hmmm.  Didn't come.  No question about how we were, how I've been taking care of absolutely everything while he's been taking His little, shall I say, rest.  Heck, I'm exhausted.  Wonder if they have a spare room.  I could use some Tai Chi.  And I'm still sad about my fallen tree.  Mauricio finally showed up today and chop chop chop.  It's all gone.  No more beautiful tree; not even a beautiful fallen tree.  It's now just gone.  I actually think that upset more than anything else today, losing that tree.  Must be time to move on.  The tree did...  

February 6

      My daughter called last night.  She asked if I had heard from Him.  I didn't want her worrying so I told her that He called His siblings a few times a day, but no, I hadn't heard from Him in about a month.  "What an ass."  He hasn't been in touch with her either.  "He calls them because He's never been mean to them," she said.  She is so perceptive about so much of this.  I told her that some day, she would have a relationship with Him, He is her father.  And then she said the most amazing thing.  She told me that she didn't want me feeling that I needed to feel any responsibility to stay married -- that she and her brother had a wonderful family life, the three of us, and that it was time for me to move on.  That I shouldn't feel guilty and that I needed to be happy.  I started to cry, and I thanked her for saying that.  And then she went on explaining more.  How did I raise such a wonderful kid?  How lucky am I?  Friday I received a call from his psychiatrist who said He wanted to schedule a phone call between Him, his shrink, and me.  Not in person, a call.  I said ok.  Weird, I thought.  Whatever.  Have no idea what is going to be discussed. I suppose something about His impending discharge.  His sister told me he is hoping to leave in one week. Go back to work. The news I get is through his family.  From across the country. When I call them and press them for info.  We'll see what He says. He's not coming home. I've had the locks changed...

February 2

     I am so tired of hiding.  I hide from the phone,  my friends,  His friends and co-workers ... all but a hand-full of people who know.  Otherwise, I'm trying to be invisible again.  Just in another way.  Can't answer questions, because I don't have answers.  He's been at this new place 8 days and my life remains in a holding pattern, waiting to find out how long He will be there, where He will go from there, and if he ever plans to speak to us again.  It would make things a tad easier.  So far, I'm pretty much winging it.  But I've been able to figure a lot out only because one of my best friends is a financial whiz, independently wealthy, and knows what I'm suppose to do, more or less.  Like paying the mortgage.  That took me four whole days to straighten out.  And in the midst of this chaos, this horrific crisis by pretty much any one's standards, this friend can still make me laugh.  Thank god for her.  Who else could actually say to you, "Your husband's in the fucking nut house, you can't do anything until he gets out, you have no idea where your money is, god your life sucks!"  And then we both laugh laugh laugh.  Honestly, some days, like a day last week, when I got a jury notice and a suspension notice for my DC driver's license in the mail, all in the same day, all on top of everything else, and I'm staring at my fallen tree that is still laying across my backyard -- one does start wondering ... exactly how much more am I suppose to take.  But I try not to wonder that anymore, because I've learned there is always something more waiting around the corner.  But then my dog starts barking, my son and his buddies come blasting through the front door, and my daughter calls on the phone.  Oh, who the fuck cares about all this other stuff.  I'm visible again...

January 30

     When He left New Year's eve, he had gone to our friend's house. At the time, I didn't know that.  Over time, my friend's husband has told me what He has said.  I hadn't known he was was monitoring my cell phone calls.  He took the bills and actually went through each call to see who I was speaking with.  I had never even looked at one of my bills.  When a friend was over, I took out a bill. Yikes, it was pages long. That must have taken a way long time.  Apparently, He even figured out the amount of time I spent talking to individual friends.  That's just bazaar.  I'm not that interesting.  I hadn't been to yoga in a month, so when I showed up, my teacher had an odd look on his face.  He asked to speak with me after. Hmm.  After the room cleared, he said he apologized for not calling but he wasn't sure how to handle it.  He had received a wild call ... from my husband.  Oh god, here we go.  I had never even remembered speaking with my yoga teacher by phone, then I remembered it had to do with books I was interested in getting that he discussed in class.  Ahhh.  The poor guy.  I must say, luckily in his previous pre-yoga life, he obviously knew quite a lot and handled my husband quite well.  He actually mentioned to him that whatever conversations between us were private, and besides that,  he should know as a lawyer that DC was a no-fault divorce state and tracking down my comings and going was pointless.  My yoga teacher said he actually calmed him on the phone.  He asked if we had children, and got him talking.  He actually found through his conversation that there were no minor children involved.  This guy is good.  Finding that out, he told my husband that making these phone calls was probably not a wise decision. And he hung up.  I am continually amazed by the strength and support of people who are new in my life.  He hugged me and said how sorry he was for what I was going through -- and told me to keep coming to yoga ...

January 29

     His brother tells me to make sure I get all my ducks in a row before He gets out.  That I need to get as much done as I can while it's quiet, while He's still in there.  I get off the phone and then it hits me.  What the fuck is his brother talking about?  What does he know that's going on, what has He told his family, that I don't know.  And what ducks ... and where are these ducks?  I haven't spoken to Him in a month, He hasn't spoken to me or His children during any of this.  His siblings are once again His family; His children have become just a past memory.  I asked my son if it was weird that he hadn't spoken to his father in such a long time. He said "No, not really."  There was nothing I could say.  I don't know if he'll ever be their father again.  But the three of us, as my daughter reminds me, we're a family and we'll be just fine.  I'm tired of hiding out in my house.  Afraid to answer questions, trying desperately to protect my kids.  First I tried to keep our divorce from taking place until after my son graduated.  Now, I'm just trying to cover up what has happened to him so my kids won't have to deal with such painful and awkward questions. When asked, I keep it short.  He moved out and we're getting a divorce.  Any other personal questions I quickly deflect, and constantly I hold my breathe hoping nobody tries to contact him.  His office cut off his cell phone and computer service.  It's impossible to get in touch with Him unless He has made contact.  I was putting together my son's photographic senior page for his high school yearbook.  I was looking through old family pictures of a much different time, and there were pictures of Him and me and all of us.  And the most surprising thing was, instead of feeling angry, or sad, or hopeless, I just felt, well, nothing ...  

January 26

     I am no longer invisible.  I am so far from where I thought I would be, my journey so derailed, my head spins.  Somehow, I know, I will get there, get back on track.  But I certainly have had the air knocked out of me.  Sometimes I can't even breathe; no time for a break or chance of feeling centered.  I haven't spoken to Him in weeks.  I just hope he gets it back together.  And somehow, back in contact with his kids, my kids.  As for me, I made it clear weeks ago He may never come back to this house. I just need Him well so I can get out. Move on.  I don't want to be angry,  it's just not me.  I just don't want any of it ever again .  But I don't want my kids hurt any more.  His second night in the hospital he calls and asks me to come.  I race across town, sign in, call up, and am put on hold for 15 minutes.  The nurse finally comes back on the phone and says He's changed his mind, I can't come up, he doesn't want to see me.  "But he called me and asked me to come," I begin to cry.  "It's His call, and He doesn't want to see you." Click.  I leave the lobby sobbing. He's so mean and I am exhausted.  I sit on a short stone wall outside the hospital to call a doctor friend of mine to tell her what's happening, and I light a cigarette.  A homeless-looking man comes up and asks for a smoke; generally I do give money when asked by obviously needy people on the street.  However, on this particular night, sobbing in the freezing cold outside the fucking hospital, trying to explain what happened to my friend, I was just too cold and distracted to dig through my purse to find the man a cigarette, so I shook my head no.  "What was that noise?"  my friend screams into the phone.  To my shock, the man had assaulted me with a handful of pennies for refusing his cigarette request. And there, on that wall talking to my friend, as pennies are thrown at me by a homeless man, we really started laughing ...  when it rains it pours -- and sometimes it pours pennies.  What defines us is how well we rise after falling.  At least that is what I keep telling my daughter, although right now, it's really a hard one to sell... 

January 25

     It was Christmas eve and I was sitting out back by our pool. It was freezing and late, and all I could think about was if Santa could come by soon, I would catch a ride the hell out.  But I looked up, the lights in my kids rooms were still on, and I knew that even if that fucking sleigh did come, I wouldn't be able to leave. Not them. So I lit another cigarette, and thought what a miserable holiday this had been.  His moods were spinning wildly, and he was accusing me of more and more weird things.  Stealing His clothes. His credit card. His cell phone.  Hiding files -- eventually of slashing his car tire. All of which were accounted for, car tire never slashed after inspection by mutual friends.  But the look in His eyes was so scary, I almost didn't recognize Him.  And while he had become meaner in the past few years, pointedly so to my daughter and I, the past few weeks had been unbearable.  I had no idea that by early Christmas morning, I would wake up to a screaming match between he and my daughter.  He just couldn't control himself -- waking up by 5:00 am and making so much noise the entire house would be jolted upright.  It was intolerable. Impossible to understand. But eventually it got to the point where I just didn't care, I just wanted Him to leave.  Our feelings were so continually crushed, my nerves shot, I just wanted Him to go...

January 24

     I'm not sure how I got to where I am. It didn't quite work out the way I thought.  So I suppose I'll have to work backwards. To catch myself up. Yes, He moved out. New Year's Eve. But somehow, today, he is an a psychiatric hospital, via two stops at two other hospitals. One a non-voluntary psychiatric ward of the DC system. Wasn't the greatest of holidays.  His office took him to the first after he showed up for work. I tried everything to keep that from happening. But as his paranoia was about me, and I had no idea where he was, I ended up getting a call one night from his co-worker that they were there. And the roller coaster begins...

December 21

     I don't think I have adjusted completely to being visible. Not yet, at least. Part of me still wants to retreat back to the safety of the old, the safety of the invisible. But once invisibility disappears, it's hard to get back. So I press on. Standing there, knowing there are so many scary things to face.  All the things I am not sure I know how to do, or worry about how to negotiate. But they are things I use to do, use to know. Maybe it's like riding a bike. The very few people in my life who know what's going on, they are the ones who tell me I can do it.  Tell me I will be fine.  There is one especially --his wisdom, his calm. His belief in me. Although I've only known him for less than a year, his help -- the importance of the connection between body and mind -- continues to make me see the world in a new way.  And it amazes me because he is so young, young enough to be my son. Something we constantly laugh about because I always refer to him as being 12.  But his soul understands so much. At one point, I considered not going to him because I was afraid my life would somehow infect his; he has a girlfriend and I was afraid my clouded karma might bring bad luck. He didn't see it that way, and now I'm glad. How someone so young can know so much continually amazes me. I have found it somewhat curious that men are much more keyed-in between what is right and what is wrong; if someone really loves you there are basic behaviors, standards to even expect. Why would He not be at the hospital for my surgery? Why, instead, would He go visit his mother? Sometimes it helps to have someone else say these things. They seem so silly; I guess they aren't. But at some point, I'm going to have to go it alone. Without help...

December 20

     Earlier in the week, I was driving home around midnight and I stopped my car to sit on a stacked rock ledge and watch the snow fall. I actually hate winter, cold, and snow, but my cousin keeps telling me that if I learn to embrace it, then maybe I won't hate it so much. So I try.  I take advantage because at night, alone, I can think. I am rather sad, though, as I spent the end of the evening talking about Him to someone; something I promised myself I would never do. He will always be the father of my children, and I always  found it so tiring to hear women talk disparaging about their former spouses. I will never talk that way again to anyone; there is just no reason, and no good can come of it at all.  That is why I have my support, to help me with His ultimatums, demands.  Again this weekend, He went skiing. My front door remains unlocked whenever He is gone; kids wander in and out of my house. I've made a big dinner so everyone gets fed. I picture my life in the future without these kids and their constant needs.  I just draw a blank.  But I don't guess this is what He thought about on his vacation to Hawaii, or his ski weekends. The choices He presents are centered upon his happiness; I wonder to myself when or if He is ever going to consider the collateral damage of the collapse of our family.  Will He ever be able to think about them before Him? And I begin to question my professional advisers who have been so adamant about so many things -- I am asked for a drink by someone who I find fascinating at, of all places, in front of a car parking meter in Georgetown.  We talk for quite a long time, me in my odd yoga clothes, looking disheveled and rushed, but I can't go for a drink. "It's complicated," I say. He looks down at my hand, no wedding ring. "Are you married?" "Yes, and it's complicated," I say again. So he stares at me and smiles, and actually seemed to understand, taking quite a lot of pressure off as he hands me his card.  "I don't mind complicated, so call me when you are ready."  And he walks away.  Of course I can't keep his card, because if we were meant to meet, we'll meet again. When it's time. And then I realize why I have been following the advice of my attorney and others, because I don't want to be the cause of unnecessary hurt-- of being seen with someone that my kids could unintentionally hear about before it's time. I know that when the time comes, and it's coming fast and furious, it will hit them hard. And although my children are plenty old enough to understand, they still won't like it. Undoubtedly, no more big house with a pool. Having what they thought was their security, pulled out from beneath them.  Then I think, they've seen and heard so much over the past few years as His filter fell away. I use to try to explain things away, His outbursts, His unexplainable behaviors. But after so many years, there is only one way I can fix it. Friends watch, many offering opinions. Some say just stay, reap the benefits of what I've put up with for so long. How can you explain it has so much more to do with just "cashing in".  And why would anyone think happiness really can be found in just money? If that's all my life was to be about, I'd just shut up and stay. But if I've learned anything this year, it's that there's just so much more. And if I am to be any kind of role model to my children, there is really only one way to show them...  

December 12

     It's taken me a long time to realize I really did do something right. My kids. They are nice people, and more than anything they can ever accomplish, that makes me the proudest. I smothered them with love and hoped that was truly the vital ingredient.  I tried to instill the importance of attention to the world around them, but also fun; I blared George Michael and we danced in the family room. Unfortunately, I also burdened them as I spent years trying to cover for Him to protect them.  But over the holiday, my kids forced me to realize that all those years were really just a waste.  They were on to everything the entire time.
     For Thanksgiving, we spent five days in France.  He came.  I knew it would be tricky, but I've been walking a tightrope in order to keep our home somewhat in tact until my son graduated from high school.  Hmm ... after our trip, that is when the time-line certainly changed.  We were having dinner, just the four of us, at a sweet little restaurant. Then it happened. The explosion.  Right there in front of both of them, the attacks on me from Him, so out of the blue we all sat there silent. Shell shocked. I try not to throw up on the table. I am unable to speak.  All of a sudden, my kids immediately take over. Even though this is not their job, this is so not right. My son tells me to leave the restaurant, and I do. I just get up and go.  But as I leave, I now know with certainty we will never go through this again.  It is now snowing, I've been to France so many times and have never seen snow. I take this as a sign.
     But despite leaving, I realize I am becoming less invisible. I am not leaving because He said to, but because my son didn't like what he saw and didn't want to see me broken. Again. And I left because I wanted to. As I head toward the door, I hear my daughter --who will forever be a three-year-old covered in pink, hand-smocked dresses with huge bows in her hair --start to vituperate Him. She is able to do this without notice by the neighboring diners; after all these years she has finally commanded his attention and has done it with such inner strength. She berated him for his selfish, child-like behavior. She credited him with once again, ruining another event by his unpredictable behavior. She is now crying at the table.
     I was stunned to find out that after all these years, she really had noticed what was going on -- I thought I did such a good job of hiding it. I guess telling your kids that their father cannot come to the season's biggest regatta or the soccer game against the school's oldest rival, because he's just too busy, as he's leaving the house in his tennis whites, didn't really fool anyone but me...

December 11

     I just smoked my last cigarette.
     Fuck me.

December 11

     Sometimes the only thing to do is walk.  I was out doing just that last night, around 2:30 in the morning, looking for deer.  And smoking, of course, because I only have one day left until I quit.  Usually I find deer quite quickly, despite being in the city, but last night I kept going and going and never found any.  I was disappointed because I have had some of my best conversations with them in the middle of the night, when I'm out walking.  Some nights, like last night, there was hardly a soul out, and here is this bustling city, it is seemingly still.  I kept walking. Searching.  Only problem was when I realized I was a few miles from home, I also realized there remained a long walk back. And still no deer.  Shit.  But it gave me time to breathe, so I was thankful for that.  He has gone skiing this weekend. Another chance for me to breathe.  Trying to recover from the explosions that keep recurring like hiccups. For me, I just count the days. It's time.  But I will continue to follow the advice I am given knowing that really, these weeks will eventually be just a blur.  But as I wait, I am developing new skills which are throwing off the status quo.  One night, after having had enough, I went into a screaming frenzy.  Shocked the heck out of myself; must have shocked Him even more.  Unfortunately, my son and his friends, who I thought had left for the evening, were pulling up to our house.  Getting out of the car, they could hear me screaming on the street.  A bit out of character for the woman they know.  I didn't know I could scream that loud, and when I think back, I'm actually somewhat impressed--despite the fact my throat hurt for the rest of the night.  I escaped to a friend's house, the mother of one of the boy's who was at my house, and immediately sent a text to my son to tell him where I was so he wouldn't worry.  He sent a text back.  It said just three words, "I love you."  It made me realize no matter how much crashes down around me, I will never lose the most important things. And in the end, I really am very lucky...

December 2

     I must admit that being invisible gave me a certain amount of security, in an odd sort of way.  I was able to stop having to talk. Mainly He talked for me, so I really didn't need to.  One of the most distressing moments came when a close friend, a doctor, made an off-handed remark after we had attended a party together.  It was the first time anyone every confronted me about the way He treated me in public.  She also admitted that others had discussed this on past occasions. I had no idea.  The next day she left a name and number on my cell, and he has since helped change my life.
     Since becoming more visible, with his help, I have been so fortunate to have a number people in my life who have helped me through this year. I find that each person has entered it for a reason, and I have learned so much from each one. I am so thankful for their thoughtful guidance.  Many are new to my life, because in an effort to limit collateral damage, I decided to delay my launch toward independence until the new year. So old friends remain in the dark, still expecting to see us at the numerous holiday parties we normally attend, discussing future plans. It's a hard act to keep up, for me to keep living two lives. But it's with the help of my newly-formed support system, who constantly guide me through this vast unknown, pushing me to keep going, that I will never be able to thank enough.  And they are all helping me to learn to speak again. It's these moments, with certain people, that can unexpectedly change the course of your life.  I'll never know where their wisdom comes from, or why they decided to share it with me. But I will always be so truly thankful.  For so long, I never thought about the possibilities of a tomorrow, and I do again. I know it will be a very different life from the life I have today, and it certainly isn't where I expected I'd be 20 years ago. But at least, I'm back on a journey. And hopefully, tomorrow will be very different from today, and I will certainly be much more visible...

December 1

     Staying visible has become quite exhausting.  I've had to develop places to hide when I feel like fading away may just be easier. Sometimes very late at night, I sit in parks and smoke cigarettes. An odd choice for someone who cared for two parents who died because of smoking. But somehow, at this time in my life, it makes me feel like they are right here with me. And how I miss them. In fact, some days I actually think about digging them up just to scream at my mother, "You were so wrong about Him!" But then I laugh. There's nothing to dig up. Just a headstone.
     When my father died, he was cremated and wanted his ashes sprinkled in the ocean near their Florida house. Of course, my mother decided she couldn't stand the thought of being apart from him, so in the closet he goes, in the brown box underneath the portable potty. Not even kidding. Two weeks after his death my mother is also diagnosed with cancer. Crap. Eventually, she also decides to be cremated but wants her ashes sprinkled over her prized rose bushes. And lucky me, instead of leaving me some lovely piece of jewelry, she leaves me Dad. He's still in the closet and it's now been some four years;  still under the portable potty. One week before she dies, she has an epiphany. No one's  ashes are being sprinkled anywhere. Now she wants to be buried with my Dad near my house.  So after she dies, after sending Him out to my parents house to get my father finally out of the closet, out from underneath that darn potty, I find myself driving around for days with both my parents in the trunk. And the curious thing is, I quickly got use to having them with me.  So I suggest to Him, why don't we forget about burying them and just keep them in the closet? Heck, my Dad seemed to be doing pretty well in there so far. and goodness knows, they don't take up much room or make any noise.  He looked rather horrified at my request.
     They were buried at a lovely little cemetery not far from our home.  But, I still wish they were in the closet...

November 19

     Living in 2 worlds gets exhausting. One foot in each. The old me, the one who is invisible, who is referred to at dinner parties as the "natural blonde", and the emerging me, the one I once was. The one who had no fear of the unknown and didn't wince when facing her own shadow. I'm still not sure why I woke up, what shook me out of my paralyzed life: kids leaving home? Maybe. But more likely, it was the fear of facing the rest of my life not being able to make choices, decisions, or have opinions. I started realizing how much I missed those things. Some of them seem so trivial when I say them out loud, but after twenty some years, I guess they stopped seeming so trivial. For some mystical reason, I decided I wanted certain things to return to my life. Constant laughter, loud music, friends stopping by at all hours, cooking dinners for whomever I feel so moved to cook for. And maybe not having those dinners dumped in the trash. And maybe, just maybe,  meeting someone who would look at me and like what they see. Like me for me.....

November 13

     It's fall. I hate fall because it means winter will ultimately come. Less light. Sometimes days go by with hardly any light and it is all I can do to get going. But it has always been like that. He announces to our therapist that I am depressed. Over medicated. Am suffering from an unhappy childhood, from having cared for sick and dying parents. That is the reason I want to leave. That is why he says I've changed. It's not because for all of my children's surgery's, I was alone in the waiting room; telling friends on the phone that yes, He was there with me.  Too sad to admit that He wasn't. And after years of pleading for Him to understand that there really is nothing wrong with me wanting the most for our kids, keeping their needs in the forefront, wanting them to have the childhood I may not quite have had, I've decided perhaps somewhere deep down I do know I may be right.  Somehow, He doesn't view the world the same way I do. It's not His fault. It's not my fault. It's just the way it turned out. And now, unlike before, with winter on the horizon, so is a new beginning, perhaps with hope instead of despair. And perhaps now, my parents will stop spinning in their graves over what I've let happen to my life. Once completely invisible, I'm slowly coming back. Even if only in black and white.....

November 5

     He stands there in the kitchen. "Kiss me goodbye."  So I turn, I look at Him wondering how someone could command someone to kiss them, without any emotion or feeling in their voice, and I close my eyes and peck him on his cheek. I turn away quickly back to the dishes.  "That was hardly worth it," He says.  I don't turn around, I don't answer, I just wonder what is actually going through His mind.  Merely minutes ago He was telling me about an ad He saw for a good fare on a trip to Istanbul. I've always wanted to go there, but not so much anymore. I left the room and thought, I've been enough places and if we went together, it would be His trip, not my trip. And then I feel it coming over me, the slow fading away, where my thoughts which were once so strong have grown weak, and my dreams which were so well defined have evaporated into the air. "Call me today. I like it when you call." He turns and leaves the room. And if I call, what would I say? Today, I have decided to save my breath just to breathe. Maybe tomorrow, I will try and talk, but not today...

November 4

     There was a time when there weren't ever enough hours in the day. When I could make a list of a thousand things that I was going to do tomorrow, or the day after that. Or how I would actually wake at the crack of dawn to go running, and do a million things before most people even thought of crawling out of bed. Not now. Sometimes it's all I can do to get up. To get out. And no, there is no exciting list for tomorrow, just errands. A never-ending list of errands that can wear me out so badly I have to crawl on the couch by the middle of the day just to recover.
     And then the phone rings and it's more things to do. He adds more errands for me to run, more mindless tasks to keep me from remembering that I ever did anything else but this. And then, of course, I will have forgotten something, missed something, overlooked something, or just plain not cared enough to think about something -- and I'll get the evening lecture on how to do these mindless tasks more efficiently, so that really I could do even more of them during the day. I'm not concentrating enough. I need Adderall. I go on Adderall. I still forget things. I eventually realize, I don't care. I don't want to make a list to go to the grocery store. It might be more efficient, but I'm not a grocery list person. I've never made one. I'd rather go, isle by isle, throw things in the cart, and leave. But to Him, that makes me the anti-wife. To me, at this point I'm just invisible. So I make a list. But then, of course, I forget to take it...

November 3

     I haven't always been invisible. In fact, there was a time when everyone could see me. I was bright, multi-colored. But then, with each year, I slowly began fading, until today, where I find myself invisible to all but a few.
     It took awhile though, to fade. To lose myself, my self-confidence, my dreams, my ambitions. And really, I blame myself more than anyone. For letting years pass, for letting my voice, once so vibrant and strong, slowly grow weak and eventually silent. And now, I find I am merely a shadow of my former self, not even recognizing the reflection in the mirror. But worst of all, not even knowing where to look anymore for my reflection, for me. And even wondering if I would know it if I saw it.
     But I know it is time to start looking for it, my old reflection, the one I use to know and the one I would recognize. It's time to start thinking about where to look for it. And even more importantly, it's time to find out why I became an invisible wife...