The Death of Love.

Not a Poem
My husband, that very same asshole who has been a part
of my life for forty-four years
is dying
I have struggled to get away
from him.
I have run away from him
I have vowed to never see him again no matter what
until I get the next phone call informing me of another hospitilazation
This time. he made a frantic
call to me while I was in
California four hours away .
He was lost, out walking
in the desert at 11:00 pm
he did not know where he was
and was crying
He is 68 years old and was recently diagnosed with SARS COV-2
911 doesn't extend county
or state lines, the sheriff was unable to help without more info.
I could do nothing but send
out a few friends but they could not locate him
When I arrived this morning
he was sitting on the stoop
of his RV sleeping,  cold and
piss soaked
The entire trailer reeks of piss
and sweat and is filthy

After all his mental illness has
put us through I cannot
let him die alone in such a mess
He has heart disease now SARS COV-2 and mental illness
I have loved him most of my life
It's time to let go of resentment and forgive
He will be treated like my king until the last chapter is complete

Goodbye my  Love
I pray for peace in your mind and body I will be with you till the end