I Met You in a Coffeeshop

I met you in a coffeeshop,
Or rather, I met your father.
He said he had a good son,
And unknowingly, I said yes.

I met you in the courthouse,
You were dressed for a funeral.
The judge was displeased,
And there was a contempt gleam in your father's eye.

I met you at your parents' house,
Our marriage party -- or what your family called it.
Your sisters told me you were the wild son,
And I saw it as a woman shoved her tongue down your throat.

I met you in our new home,
For I had to pack up and leave America for Wales.
I hardly saw you the next few days,
Traveling in and out with a slut on your arm.

I met you in our bed,
The marriage bed I was told.
Frightened, I spilled I was a virgin,
Not that you were hardly ever home to care.

I met you at your lowest point,
When you had grown tired of your ways.
Your warm hand squeezed mine gently,
Eight months into our loveless marriage was better than never.

I met you on our first date,
At the restaurant we called the kitchen.
We flirted as two strangers would,
Awkward and different.

I met you at your parents' anniversary,
When you touched my leg shyly.
Your family still thought we were unhappy,
We certainly had them fooled.

I met you on our first anniversary -- of getting along, that is,
Pink roses and a sapphire necklace.
"Honestly, William, you shouldn't have,"
Smiling softly, "I... I like you."

I met you in the park,
Being the clutz I was, I tumbled down the steps and onto the grass.
My knight in shining armor, I later called you,
Picked me up and worried over me.

I met you at your sister's,
Madison -- the blonde -- the last to be convinced we loved each other.
I remember she laughed her heart out when we told her,
Don't you?

I met you at your work,
Sliding into the driver's seat, we left for nowhere.
"Let's have the rest of the day to ourselves,"
I smiled, "I'd love that."

I met you at the traintracks,
The hero of my life.
William, the strong and brave, and his wife, the small and quick,
Rescued two infants from a car stuck on the tracks.

I met you in ICU,
Broken and vulnerable -- you shut me out.
Nevertheless I stayed by your side,
In sickness and in health, as the judge made me promise.

I met you eight weeks later,
They released you into my care.
I played the part of the loyal wife,
Do you remember?

I met you after your final surgery,
Overwhelmed and grateful you were.
"Dr. Carrie will want to see you after this week,"
You groaned, "The woman loves watching me walk."

I met you and your new cane,
The stick of metal you had to limp around with.
Madison and Claire teased you until you replied,
"I'd be paralyzed without it."

I met you two years later -- our sixth anniversary, the proper one,
Need I clarify?
"Mrs. William Todd, I have waited two years for this moment,"
I laced my arm over your shoulder, "Take me."

I met you at my school's reunion,
My handsome date who didn't put up with their bullshit.
Gruffly, "Show them the scar." the one I suffered from the accident,
Jagged and dark, it stuck out against my pallor, trailing between my shoulder blades to my elbow.

I met you in the dark,
On a porch swing in the dead of night.
Your father had spilled your second secret,
Our marriage would only last for ten years.

I met you when I thought my heart was broken,
Eight years and I had learned to love you.
The promise you made after we both nearly died,
I thought it was true.

I met you after I had shed thousands of tears,
On your knees, begging me for forgiveness.
"I love you, my sweet,"
You continued, "My father can be damned!"

I met you before one of your rages,
The moments of anger that'd bubble up after weeks of suppressing it.
I saw the familiar glint in your eyes,
"I'm going to retire early," I fled the room.

I met you after the rage -- after you terrified your family,
As your wife I was accustomed to your demons.
"I am your wife, for better or for worse,"
"Tell me when things aren't going right."

I met you in the snow ten minutes later,
Ready to give you the ultimatum.
My voice shook, "You've forgotten what it was like to have a wife,"
"Don't come home tonight, until you've remembered the meaning of our vows."

I met you four weeks later,
Madison begged me to visit.
I smiled softly,
But you knew I was guarded.

I met you when you returned around midnight,
The bed dipped slowly.
I turned around,
Surprised but happy to see you home.

I met you when you confided in me,
The young bride inside me squealed with joy.
Your rages continued,
But not as strong.

I met you the day before our tenth anniversary,
Rose petals and poems -- oh, you knew my weak spots.
"Will you still love me tomorrow?" quoting the song we just heard,
I laughed, "I think Frankie Valli did a better job."

I met you when you suddenly proposed,
You said I cried, but I didn't.
"My darling Eliza, will you marry me this time out of love?"
"A thousand times yes," -- "Jane Bennet was better," -- we laughed.

I met you in my wedding dress -- the one I never thought I'd have,
Black suit as I forbid you to wear a tux waiting for me at the end of the aisle.
We were married... again,
"Properly," you and the judge said.

I met you in our marriage bed,
To ravish each other, your words not mine.
Your hands were roaming my body,
"I love you."

I met you in our bathroom,
Positive about the test, eh?
Children your parents wanted,
But we never really talked about.

I met you when I woke,
Cold and empty in the hospital bed.
"She's gone," tears clogged your throat,
I did not think I could lose my heart with a daughter that never was.

I met you after the funeral,
Your mother wanted a proper burial.
I was so sick of things being "proper,"
Hands rubbed my back as you whispered comfortingly in my ear.

I met you when we had healed,
The sun shone in the living room where you had fallen asleep.
The light carved your face,
I knew I did not have to have a child to be complete.

I met you on our twelfth anniversay,
Wearing a purple dress that you had bought three days prior.
You were clad in a suit and dinner jacket,
"Where's the party?" I smiled.

I met you...
I knew you...
I cared for you...
And I loved you...

In an instant -- they said,
You lied still on that hard bed.
The bruises of the night forming,
I couldn't bare to live knowing.

I met you at your grave,

As I tell you our life
And how I hope heaven has not spoiled you
How I yearn to see your eyes, to feel your touch again.

How could I go on,
When my love is gone?
From this world never to return,
Am I in Hell because this burns.

I love you, William, with everything I have left,
I know you'd say keep living, keep going.
Arranged marriage it was,
But we weren't finished yet.

We had just started to dream...