Cindy carried hope, or false hope I’d call it, for her husband, Ryan, of twelve years. Ryan carried the Xbox controller, what he carried every day, along with his little bag of greens. Together they carried two children, boys, 10 and 2. Cindy carried a spatula and spices, to provide food, breakfast and dinner, for Ryan and their kids. Lunch took care of itself, as both Cindy and Ryan ate at work. Ryan did not carry a “thank you,” for the meals his wife was serving up; he was too stuck in Madden or Call of Duty. Cindy carried the keys to a blue Monte Carlo; the AC didn’t work, nor did the power window on the driver’s side. Ryan carried the keys to a navy blue TrailBlazer, it was the family car, but he called it his. Cindy carried medications to take care of the bipolar disorder, and the boy, 10, he carried meds for his ADHD. The 2-year-old, he carried whatever was lying about the house. One day, Cindy carried a bruise, and then she carried another one. Ryan carried his ego, and the idea that Cindy would not leave him. Oh, I forgot to mention that Ryan carried his tool belt, but he would never build his wife a new kitchen, something she always wanted. On Fridays and Saturdays, Ryan carried a beer and a blunt. It’s okay though, Cindy carried the blunt, too. And the 10-year-old, he’d sometimes carry a ping pong ball, to play water pong. After the last bruise that Cindy carried, she also carried a bag of clothes for her and the youngest boy. Cindy stayed at her parents’ house that weekend. I don’t know what Ryan carries now. I don’t know what he wants. Currently, Cindy and Ryan hold the pass to marriage counseling. I hope soon they carry love, and the promise they made on that August eve.
*Note: This couple is doing much better. I see them leading the way every day for their boys. The oldest is a successful athlete who continues to make honor roll, and I have no doubt that his younger brother will follow him.