Murder

I almost killed Husband #1.  On purpose.  With a knife.  And I consider myself to be somewhat civilized and in control.

But there I was, standing in the kitchen, cutting up a melon, big knife in hand.  And there he was, standing in front of me, telling me about flying to another city to visit his newly-disclosed “girl friend”, describing their activities of the past weekend.

And I saw it.  A brief blackness with accompanied by a ringing in my ears   Then the knife shining, plunging, cutting, again and again.  My hand pushing it into his abdomen, cutting the mean part of him out.  I saw myself killing him.  I saw the blood, the muscle, the remains of whatever he had for lunch.  It all flashed in front of my eyes in a split second.

Mercifully, I saw something else immediately after my murderous vision. I saw my children.

I saw my children being raised by grandparents.  I saw long lonely stretched of time between visiting days in prison.  I saw parties, graduations, weddings, births, and quiet moments together.  I saw finger painting, baking Christmas cookies, and splashing in mud puddles.  I saw all those things and realized that they would happen with or without me present.

And my desire to be a part of my children’s lives was more powerful than my desire to kill Husband #1.

Whew.