I made an assumption. My mistake. It won’t happen again.
I assumed when you said you loved me, you knew what love was. Silly really.
I assumed when you said, “for better or for worse,” you wouldn’t be the cause of the “worse.” I was confused.
I assumed when you held your baby, you would cherish her as if she mattered. I was blind.
I assumed some day we would be enough for you, that you would be happy. Completely my fault.
I assumed when you fought for equal custody, it was because you wanted to be with your children. Laughable now that I think about it.
I assumed you would be happier with your new girlfriend, your new wife. Ridiculous of me.
I assumed when you had a new baby, you might feel complete. I overestimated your ability to change.
I assumed when you told your children you would take them one last time to see the home where they grew up, that you would follow through. Preposterous of me.
Why do I continue to assume that you will ever be anything except what you are? Why do I believe some day you will stop disappointing your children? Why do I ever give you the benefit of the doubt or think you will follow through?
You are who you are. You continue to blame everyone and everything except yourself; and so you will never change. Your life will never get better. If I continue to hold faith that you will be anything except who you are, that is my mistake. I will probably make the same one again, but I do not blame you for my poor judgement.
This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Assumption