For nearly 20 yearsI was afraid of him.

 

I hid from him,

took great pains to not have my name in that thing they call the Internet.

Alas, he still found me

on that stupid thing called Facebook.

 

When I left,

I left because I was scared.

A voice told me I had to leave.

“Go now!”

It said.

“Get out!”

 

So I did.

I packed in one night,

only books, clothes, a zester and a salad spinner.

 

For nearly 20 years, I said I ran from a bad man.

I was convinced of it,

Convinced I did the right thing.

 

But then one peep started talking to me,

telling me he was okay.

 

It started with a whisper,

“He’s safe. He IS safe.

Talk to him.”

 

I ignored it,

but the whispers would not yield.

 

Finally, I gave in

And found him on that Internet.

 

And I was wrong,

Wrong about everything I believed.

 

All those years ago,

We did not know

I had DID.

 

My dear sweet love was having a hard time all those years ago.

He left the only job he had ever known.

There was despair and a hole in his heart in a life without that job.

 

He would hole up in that room all by himself,

and not say a word.

Just play his video games

and grunt my way.

 

One day I had enough of no talk.

He had a bowl of popcorn cradled in his arm.

He gave me a scowl and cower as I walked in.

I popped that bowl of popcorn straight in the air

and it rained popcorn on our despair.

 

A peep I didn’t know I had was scared,

and wanted to run.

My husband’s despair was a reminder of woe

the peep felt in the scary house of long ago.

 

This was not the same,

but how were we to know?

 

When I left he cried

and asked me not to go.

 

I left, and did not turn back.

 

Nearly 20 years later,

I turn back.

 

Now, I cry,

and ask him not to go.