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