The Mad Years

The Mad Years Years ago my first wife had left me for another man I was crazy by jealousy she in another man`s arms intolerable. A ghost walking through town in a haze of whisky a meltdown caused by dishonest self-importance. I didn`t see how pathetic I was trying to end myself on the Altar of love, I wallowed in the victimhood. The bank took the house my mother took me in told me to grow up. Sleeping on a sofa and no privacy sharpens the mind to be constructive like working for living. Slowly I was able to forget and let go, my overreaction was of hurt my self-esteem had taken a beating; she left me. My sister had a summer cabin by the sea in a fjord, she let me stay there dry as a preacher- until feeling better. I did but got a phobia could no leave, alone, yet safe from the world I could think and stay here forever I shrink handed me Valium held my hand as we walked down the track to his car, it was white with red letters I didn`t mind full of pills I was safe, now I think it sure was tough growing up