“YOU NEED TO LEAVE HIM” I screamed.

There I was squatting, yes in squat position on the patio. On one side of me was an old beach chair and on the other side a surfboard propped against a barbecue grill.

My brown hair was wavy from all the humidity that day. I was barefoot. Wearing my favorite black silk top and Paige jeans. My left hand rested on my knee and my right hand held my shame. A lit Marlboro red.

I noticed a tiny spider resting in his web on the wheel of the barbecue. He minded his business and I minded mine.

It was humid and dark out with a little light provided by the moon. I could see the shapes of the tall trees that lined the street and hear the occasional car zoom by.

The sliding glass door was shut. On the other side of the glass he was on the couch. Mark. All 6’1 and 270 pounds of him. HIs athletic body hidden under his new fat suit. He was horizontal, resting after a long day at work. His light brown hair fell the only way it could fall on a surfer. He wore his blue sweats and his Dave Matthews concert t-shirt that creeped up a displaying his belly. He held his phone in front of his tired face staring at whatever game he was playing for hours.

I felt so lonely, miserable and depressed… then I heard a whisper not from my head, but from my heart which gently asked “What part of this is you?” “What part to this is you?”