Wine

“He’s getting married Friday.” 

I poured myself another glass of wine and she stared sadly into hers. 

“Wait. Didn’t he just meet this girl on Halloween?” 

“Yes.” 

“When did he get engaged?”

“Christmas Day.” 

“How does your daughter feel about it?” 

“That’s the painful part. She’s devastated. She hardly knows the woman. I don’t even miss him. I’m not sad for myself, I’m sad for our daughter who is just a mess about it.” 

We spoke late into the night. Drinking two bottles of wine together. Snuggling on her couch as we wept at the painful and unfair world it was. We poured out our hearts as we poured each glass. Shared our pains. Laid out our sufferings. Lived in broken community with one another. This was us as real as it gets. Weeping and mourning together. As friends ought to. 

She had only been divorced a year. She had been dating pretty steadily, but only casually. She was struggling to find a man who was able to see her for who she really was, and wouldn’t try to change her. Men had often tried. Some telling her what career she should go into next. Telling her she should work out and lose the pounds. We’re I a man I’d be greatful to have a woman like her in my life. A compassionate, creative, domestic goddess. Who loves the Lord and was so broken over her divorce, but too abused by her narcissistic husband to keep going. It wasn’t worth her life and sanity. She had to get out. To protect herself,and to protect her daughter, she felt the need to do the very thing she never believed in…divorce him. She was free, until he began pulling things on her afterward. This being the most painful. If he could not hurt her, he would hurt their daughter. 

So we cried, because we cannot change people. Because the world is full of unfair things. Because people are weird, and that makes life weird too. So we cried, and drank more wine. 

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