Not Every Possession Gained Is Material

When Elaine made her way down to the parking garage she felt a sense of dread welling up. The blip of the car alarm signaled the location of the Porsche and she slowly made her way down the rows as the click of her heels echoed throughout the cement enclosure. At first it had seemed funny; her friend Laura had suggested the vanity plates that spelled out “WAS HIS" as a last attempt of bravado after a yearlong battle to extricate herself from the oppression of her marriage. But it stopped feeling like a victory several weeks ago. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but more and more she wanted to tear off the license plate and hurl it off a cliff. In fact she wanted to trade in the car and get a more modest car, but she didn't know how to do that without seeming to let down all of her friends who had stood by her while she fought her way out of his claws. The energy that had sustained her through the court system and mountains of paper work had tapped out. Now she felt alone and raw. The words that glared back at her underneath the florescent lights seemed chap and tacky now. Only after she had gotten out of the storm could she look back and realize how desperate she had been for all those years. Those words resonated in her mind when she slept alone at night and dared to turn in the bed for comfort, after years of training herself not to toss and turn and waken the dragon that slept next to her. She realized now that he had never loved her, but had just treated her as a token like any number of trophies he had gathered in his journey to become a surgeon. The modesty and compassion that he had possessed in the beginning of their relationship had