For some reason a recent conversation popped in my head this morning. It's a bit of dialogue that would be great in a book. Since I don't write that genre, I decided to fictionalize it in miniature:
"Tom and Janet are getting a divorce." My husband sipped his coffee, peering at me over the rim of his over-sized mug.
I looked up from pouring my own cup of joe. "Really! What happened?"
"She said she wasn't happy."
"That's a stupid reason," I said, going back to pouring and dumping creamer and tearing sweetener packets. "No one's happy all the time. What does she expect?"
My spouse of 21 long years bit into his morning toast, trying to hide a smirk.
"I saw that." I fake glowered at him. "Anyway, just because she's not going around singing The Hills are Alive every day is no reason for a divorce."
"I don't know."
"God knows I'm not happy every day," I continued.
"That makes two of us."
I wrinkled my nose and stuck my tongue out.
It was always that way with us. No, we weren't happy all the time, but we had our snarky sense of humor towards life and each other to carry us forward. Perhaps somewhere along the line, Janet had lost her ability to poke fun and merely misnamed it happiness. Which seemed to me all the more tragic.
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Names were changed, etc. :)
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