I refuse

I refuse to be an old bitter woman who was burned by divorce and still angry at her ex, infecting everyone around her with her cancer of bitterness.

I refuse to be that woman! She foolishly thinks she's over it but her very soul seethes with anger and bitterness.  As much as she tries to contain it, it spills into every area of her life.  It spills into her home, her career, her social life or lack thereof.  It creeps out at the most inopportune times.  The anger creeps out in traffic, on the check out line...with friends.  Her reactions to offenses her off balance.  She literally blows things out of proportion.

I refuse to be that woman!  She dies a lonely death. And although no one says it, and mourners appear sad at her funeral, there are some who are secretly happy, relieved even that she is gone, that she is finally dead.