Marc Lyon

Marc LyonI did love her.
But I could not
get away. I
thought if I was
cruel, she would leave
me first. But her
capacity
to absorb hurt
seemed limitless.
I lied, I found
reasons to stay
away as much
as I could. I
manufactured
emergencies,
catastrophes,
and crises that
kept me from home.
Once, I told her
I needed to
testify as
a witness in
a federal
case that would keep
me sequestered
for a whole year.
She cried and cried,
but told me that
she would pray for
the day I would
come back to her.
She knew I would,
long before I
knew. She owned me.
So I gave in,
stopped trying to
run. She was by
my side, grasping
my wrists, when I
finally died.

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