Remnants

I didn’t want to be the drop of wine left at the bottom of the glass, the remainder of something once savored that now has to be rinsed out.  

The hands tasked with cleaning don't appreciate the wine's rich notes, do they?

I’ve fought this transformation, but I’ve lost. 

I’m not a gracious loser.

I believed the status-quo would change.  Holidays passed, birthdays passed, yet things stayed the same.  I grasped at a sliver of hope that things would turn around; this delusion allowed me to meet the day’s challenges with some grace.

Hope whispered, "You'll meet someone and have a baby with him. It will be a beautiful shared experience.  The loneliness will disappear."

Things will remain the same now; it’s this finality that unsettles me.

I didn’t realize how much I depended on hope.  Now that it’s gone, well,  I’m lost. 

Plus the cleanup from the after-party is quite messy.