Love Song

Red peeling paint Jesus sign on the side of the road. arrow  pointing no where man. No where. No direction for us either. I never saw a sign of RG leaving. No peeling paint on the edges of our marriage that only lasted eight months. No peeling paint , nothing left out for the weather to ruin. Left out and left behind. Maybe I was the peeling paint, unloved and left out to ruin. Still I wonder if there was something I could say to fix what I didn't know was broken. But that summer I couldn't even fix what was broken in me. My PTSD. My broken record that no one wants to hear. My sad song of life that I can't stop from repeating. I wish instead I could give RG a love song. Some magical sweet melody that could remind him of everything good and kind about us. Remind him of huge home cooked meals. Simmering soups, perfuming the whole house, roasted chickens that he adored. Remind him of playing in the rain, kisses in the rain. Remind him when I drove him to work for three and a half years no matter what. That I just and still love him no matter what. Write him a love song that reminds him when our kisses were fireworks and birthday cake. The only kisses worth remembering my whole life. Something anything to take away his hate, make him remember when he didn't believe I was ugly and crazy.