The First Time I Died
When Julie, my first wife, stood in the bedroom's doorway and said she didn't love me anymore her words tore through me like bullets. I sat on the edge of our bed holding myself tight where it hurt, my head hung low, tears spilling out of my eyes. The pain was so bad I was thinking I wished I was dead. I didn't know it then but I had already died. The tears were a rebirth.
Robert W. Howington