Who Was The Stranger?

Who was the stranger?
Was it him? Was it me?
Who was it that started taking on an identity
not their own?

Like a chameleon I blended into
My surroundings…his life…his wife
I met his expectations, not mine
Put my dreams on a shelf
Like Scarlet “I’ll think about it tomorrow”
Became my first thought whenever things didn’t seem right

The shame, the guilt, the sadness
The secrets that couldn’t be told
Bottled up inside me, seeping deeper and deeper
Into my flesh, into my very soul

My mind confused, my spirit broken
Years would slip away
Into a cloud of gray
Where nothing mattered

I succumbed to his fantasies
Somewhat reluctantly, feigning interest
Always trying to satisfy
Desires that were insatiable

Frustration was my constant companion
Fear—the driver of my bus
My cloud of gray turned to black
And to myself…I became a stranger

December 5, 2001 Elaine Carlson