Flames flicker and cast shadows
Heavy with longing and mystery
The chill of a spring night is swept away
On the wisps of sweet wood smoke
His profile in firelight is strong
His hand covers mine, and he squeezes gently
My fingers are warmed by his
Interlaced on his knee
We sit in silence
With shared glances and delicate caresses
We do not need words tonight
Our language is our love
Darkness quietly washes away the light
Of our warm May Sunday
Stars shimmer in the inky night sky
My hand covers his as we watch the fire fade
Monday, May 10, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Day 75
Today I am introducing you to a writing style you are probably already familiar with, but it's one I much enjoy, and desperately need to make use of at the moment. It is called "The Rant." I did not create this style, but I do believe I've enjoyed much success with it, and hopefully, the rant that follows - simply called "Stupid People," will demonstrate that I am adept with ranting.
The hardest part of having a chronic medical condition isn't always the symptoms caused by said condition. Sometimes, it's the stupidity of people you foolishly talk to about the condition. I have a cornucopia of conditions to choose from, but let's start with infertility.
There is a rule... it's unspoken, and typically ignored, but it is a rule nevertheless, and those of us who've battled infertility are well acquainted with this rule. Don't ask a couple when they're going to have kids. I don't care if they've been "married long enough," or if you think she might be passing her fertility prime. It is none of your damn business. Doesn't matter if it's your sister, your daughter, your best friend... you don't ask this question. Many couple choose not to have kids. IF they want to address that with you, they will. Some couples - like my husband and myself - try for years and go through the heartbreak of failed infertility treatments, and they don't want to have to talk about it because it fucking hurts. It's emotionally painful, and often also physically painful.
People, however, are stupid and insensitive. They ask anyway. Usually, when they ask me, they're sorry they did. I refuse to be polite and just say, "oh, it didn't work out." Nope. You wanna be nosy? Then you get to hear all about my ovarian cysts and the endometrial tissue that lines the insides of my body, swells and bleeds and causes me unspeakable pain. You can hear about how my hair is still falling out after six months of medically induced menopause - oh, how did they do that? Shots in my ass. Yeah, fun stuff. Aren't you glad you asked? The way I look at it, I am doing a service to other people in my shoes. Maybe this person will be sorry enough they asked that they won't repeat that stupid mistake with another couple.
Then there are the ones who, when you first mention "infertility," will interrupt and either say, "well, did you try the treatments?" or "maybe you should adopt." No, I didn't try any treatments. I just like to complain. Duh. All I ever wanted was to be a mother. Of course I tried the damn treatments. Four rounds and two years and I'd had it. I couldn't do it anymore. By then I knew I had not one, but two conditions and the odds of me ever getting pregnant were minuscule. Maybe to you it sounds like I gave up too soon. To me, it sounds like I was done with the monthly heartbreak of not being pregnant... AGAIN. 26 months of that was more than enough, thanks. I had to preserve my sanity, and although I am one of the lucky ones whose marriage wasn't impacted that badly by infertility, it still has an impact. If nothing else, just think about how you'd like to have specifically timed sex that ends in ridiculous ways you don't want to hear about for months on end. It's no picnic.
As for adoption, well... I have fibroymyalgia, depression, Hashimoto's disease, endometriosis, PCOS and my husband has multiple sclerosis. We're hardly ideal candidates for adoption. It's also NOT without the risk of heartbreak, and it's incredibly expensive. We're atheists, and that's also a challenge because many international adoption agencies have a religious foundation. Not to mention, I've already dealt with invasive treatments and tests to figure out what's wrong with my insides. I don't want that same invasive procedure in my personal life to qualify for adoption. We've discussed it, at length. My husband would do it for me... but it's not right for us and it's doubtful we'd qualify anyway, at least not for an infant and for many, many reasons - all personal choices we have every right to make - we don't want to adopt an older child. We don't want to adopt any child, but that's beside the point, because bring up the medical stuff and someone always says, "there are older kids who need a home, too." Yes. Maybe you should adopt one if you feel so strongly about it that you want to tell ME to do it. The bottom line? The answer to "why don't you adopt?" is also "none of your damn business."
Okay, so let's move on to fibromyalgia. I have chronic, near constant pain from this condition. I have some days that are worse than others, but I haven't been pain free for a full day in nearly nine years. I also haven't had a decent night of sleep in that time frame. It takes its toll. I recently decided, partly because of the fibro and partly for other reasons unrelated to medical stuff, that I wanted to teach high school instead of elementary school. It's less physically demanding, and in some ways, less mentally demanding. When you don't sleep well, your brain just gets, well... tired. There's no other way to describe it. Some days, just trying to think hurts.
Fibro is fun because a lot of people don't believe in it still (including my grandmother, though she refuses to just outright say it - or at least she doesn't believe *I* have it). Researchers still really aren't sure what the hell it even is, how it is caused. Which makes treatment options sort of a shot in the dark, really. There are only three FDA approved treatments. One is Lyrica, which did literally nothing for me or to me. Nothing good or bad... I had no reaction to it (which is good because at least it means I didn't have terrible side effects). The other two are both antidepressants, and to be specific, they're SSRIs. I can't take SSRIs. They give me terrible depression (ironically) and cause extreme anxiety attacks. That said, out of desperation at one point, I did try an SSRI called Elavil. The smallest dosage possible made me sleep for 17 hours (and it was a heavy, hard sleep - not restorative at all). I also tried gabapentin, which is a drug chemically similar to Lyrica, but it's generic and use of it to treat fibro is "off label." It helped the pain some, but made me crazy - literally. I was angry, hostile and miserable. It wasn't worth it. I also tried physical therapy, but the therapist wanted me to go down to a center that has a pool. Which would be great, except driving there would take an hour - and driving is one of the more painful activities I can do. My doctor agreed that driving an hour for a 45 minute therapy session I then had to drive an hour home from would just be silly and counterproductive.
So, we've established what I've done for the fibro. At this point, all I can do is get through my days with the various medications that help (like Xanax, Vicodin, Flexeril). I use them as little as possible, but when I need them, I need them. I make no apologies for that. But because of this, when I finish my Master's degree, I plan to look into some of the online charter schools for employment. My grandmother had asked why I was changing to secondary education, and I was explaining all this to her, and she (stupidly) asks, "don't you think that will ever go away?" Uhm, NO. I've told her this before, but I said it again... there is no cure for fibro. I've exhausted the known treatment options. I deal with the pain. I try to live my life as best I can... but if something like working from home can make my life easier, why wouldn't I do it if it's an option??? But you have to know my grandmother to know that it wasn't just an innocent question. It was heavy with unspoken disbelief and accusations. She clearly either doesn't believe in fibro or (more likely) doesn't believe I have it. Which is also really, really frustrating to deal with... and it is stressful, and fibro and stress aren't happy bedfellows.
Which brings me to the main point. People are stupid. I mean, does she think I'm just sitting here in pain not even trying to do anything about it? Part of the issue is probably that I don't complain much, especially to her. Which makes it less likely I could *really* be in so much pain. Now, let's just analyze the source of this unspoken criticism for a moment. Seven years ago, she broke a crown in the front of her mouth. There is still a gap there because she's too terrified to deal with the dentist. She has needed glasses my entire life, but says that her eyes will get "worse" if she wears them, so instead she squints and scares the crap out me whenever I consider she still drives (oh, and mind you - I've worn glasses since second grade. I've had my eyesight improve twice in the past five or six years. Not by much, but still.). Her feet have caused her extreme pain for years, but she doesn't go to a doctor to get inserts made that might help. Next time she says, "don't you think it will ever go away?" I might come back with, "do you think you'll ever get your tooth fixed?" ARGH.
She's not a "bad" person (not that I believe in "bad" and "good," per se). But this aspect of her personality is frustrating and downright pisses me off at times. Just because you are unwilling to do what you need to do to take care of certain issues (like missing teeth), don't assume I am also unwilling. If there was a magic wand that could take away my pain, I'd wave it and say the spell. Unfortunately, no matter how determinedly I point my wand, and no matter who convincingly I shout, "reparo!" there is no magic to fix me. I'm broken. I deal with it... if *I* can deal with it, you should certainly be able to deal with it, and just be glad it's me and not you.
They say mean people suck, and while I concur, I also think stupid people suck, and frankly, there are times when I'd prefer actual malicious intent over stupidity. At least then I can attack back...
The hardest part of having a chronic medical condition isn't always the symptoms caused by said condition. Sometimes, it's the stupidity of people you foolishly talk to about the condition. I have a cornucopia of conditions to choose from, but let's start with infertility.
There is a rule... it's unspoken, and typically ignored, but it is a rule nevertheless, and those of us who've battled infertility are well acquainted with this rule. Don't ask a couple when they're going to have kids. I don't care if they've been "married long enough," or if you think she might be passing her fertility prime. It is none of your damn business. Doesn't matter if it's your sister, your daughter, your best friend... you don't ask this question. Many couple choose not to have kids. IF they want to address that with you, they will. Some couples - like my husband and myself - try for years and go through the heartbreak of failed infertility treatments, and they don't want to have to talk about it because it fucking hurts. It's emotionally painful, and often also physically painful.
People, however, are stupid and insensitive. They ask anyway. Usually, when they ask me, they're sorry they did. I refuse to be polite and just say, "oh, it didn't work out." Nope. You wanna be nosy? Then you get to hear all about my ovarian cysts and the endometrial tissue that lines the insides of my body, swells and bleeds and causes me unspeakable pain. You can hear about how my hair is still falling out after six months of medically induced menopause - oh, how did they do that? Shots in my ass. Yeah, fun stuff. Aren't you glad you asked? The way I look at it, I am doing a service to other people in my shoes. Maybe this person will be sorry enough they asked that they won't repeat that stupid mistake with another couple.
Then there are the ones who, when you first mention "infertility," will interrupt and either say, "well, did you try the treatments?" or "maybe you should adopt." No, I didn't try any treatments. I just like to complain. Duh. All I ever wanted was to be a mother. Of course I tried the damn treatments. Four rounds and two years and I'd had it. I couldn't do it anymore. By then I knew I had not one, but two conditions and the odds of me ever getting pregnant were minuscule. Maybe to you it sounds like I gave up too soon. To me, it sounds like I was done with the monthly heartbreak of not being pregnant... AGAIN. 26 months of that was more than enough, thanks. I had to preserve my sanity, and although I am one of the lucky ones whose marriage wasn't impacted that badly by infertility, it still has an impact. If nothing else, just think about how you'd like to have specifically timed sex that ends in ridiculous ways you don't want to hear about for months on end. It's no picnic.
As for adoption, well... I have fibroymyalgia, depression, Hashimoto's disease, endometriosis, PCOS and my husband has multiple sclerosis. We're hardly ideal candidates for adoption. It's also NOT without the risk of heartbreak, and it's incredibly expensive. We're atheists, and that's also a challenge because many international adoption agencies have a religious foundation. Not to mention, I've already dealt with invasive treatments and tests to figure out what's wrong with my insides. I don't want that same invasive procedure in my personal life to qualify for adoption. We've discussed it, at length. My husband would do it for me... but it's not right for us and it's doubtful we'd qualify anyway, at least not for an infant and for many, many reasons - all personal choices we have every right to make - we don't want to adopt an older child. We don't want to adopt any child, but that's beside the point, because bring up the medical stuff and someone always says, "there are older kids who need a home, too." Yes. Maybe you should adopt one if you feel so strongly about it that you want to tell ME to do it. The bottom line? The answer to "why don't you adopt?" is also "none of your damn business."
Okay, so let's move on to fibromyalgia. I have chronic, near constant pain from this condition. I have some days that are worse than others, but I haven't been pain free for a full day in nearly nine years. I also haven't had a decent night of sleep in that time frame. It takes its toll. I recently decided, partly because of the fibro and partly for other reasons unrelated to medical stuff, that I wanted to teach high school instead of elementary school. It's less physically demanding, and in some ways, less mentally demanding. When you don't sleep well, your brain just gets, well... tired. There's no other way to describe it. Some days, just trying to think hurts.
Fibro is fun because a lot of people don't believe in it still (including my grandmother, though she refuses to just outright say it - or at least she doesn't believe *I* have it). Researchers still really aren't sure what the hell it even is, how it is caused. Which makes treatment options sort of a shot in the dark, really. There are only three FDA approved treatments. One is Lyrica, which did literally nothing for me or to me. Nothing good or bad... I had no reaction to it (which is good because at least it means I didn't have terrible side effects). The other two are both antidepressants, and to be specific, they're SSRIs. I can't take SSRIs. They give me terrible depression (ironically) and cause extreme anxiety attacks. That said, out of desperation at one point, I did try an SSRI called Elavil. The smallest dosage possible made me sleep for 17 hours (and it was a heavy, hard sleep - not restorative at all). I also tried gabapentin, which is a drug chemically similar to Lyrica, but it's generic and use of it to treat fibro is "off label." It helped the pain some, but made me crazy - literally. I was angry, hostile and miserable. It wasn't worth it. I also tried physical therapy, but the therapist wanted me to go down to a center that has a pool. Which would be great, except driving there would take an hour - and driving is one of the more painful activities I can do. My doctor agreed that driving an hour for a 45 minute therapy session I then had to drive an hour home from would just be silly and counterproductive.
So, we've established what I've done for the fibro. At this point, all I can do is get through my days with the various medications that help (like Xanax, Vicodin, Flexeril). I use them as little as possible, but when I need them, I need them. I make no apologies for that. But because of this, when I finish my Master's degree, I plan to look into some of the online charter schools for employment. My grandmother had asked why I was changing to secondary education, and I was explaining all this to her, and she (stupidly) asks, "don't you think that will ever go away?" Uhm, NO. I've told her this before, but I said it again... there is no cure for fibro. I've exhausted the known treatment options. I deal with the pain. I try to live my life as best I can... but if something like working from home can make my life easier, why wouldn't I do it if it's an option??? But you have to know my grandmother to know that it wasn't just an innocent question. It was heavy with unspoken disbelief and accusations. She clearly either doesn't believe in fibro or (more likely) doesn't believe I have it. Which is also really, really frustrating to deal with... and it is stressful, and fibro and stress aren't happy bedfellows.
Which brings me to the main point. People are stupid. I mean, does she think I'm just sitting here in pain not even trying to do anything about it? Part of the issue is probably that I don't complain much, especially to her. Which makes it less likely I could *really* be in so much pain. Now, let's just analyze the source of this unspoken criticism for a moment. Seven years ago, she broke a crown in the front of her mouth. There is still a gap there because she's too terrified to deal with the dentist. She has needed glasses my entire life, but says that her eyes will get "worse" if she wears them, so instead she squints and scares the crap out me whenever I consider she still drives (oh, and mind you - I've worn glasses since second grade. I've had my eyesight improve twice in the past five or six years. Not by much, but still.). Her feet have caused her extreme pain for years, but she doesn't go to a doctor to get inserts made that might help. Next time she says, "don't you think it will ever go away?" I might come back with, "do you think you'll ever get your tooth fixed?" ARGH.
She's not a "bad" person (not that I believe in "bad" and "good," per se). But this aspect of her personality is frustrating and downright pisses me off at times. Just because you are unwilling to do what you need to do to take care of certain issues (like missing teeth), don't assume I am also unwilling. If there was a magic wand that could take away my pain, I'd wave it and say the spell. Unfortunately, no matter how determinedly I point my wand, and no matter who convincingly I shout, "reparo!" there is no magic to fix me. I'm broken. I deal with it... if *I* can deal with it, you should certainly be able to deal with it, and just be glad it's me and not you.
They say mean people suck, and while I concur, I also think stupid people suck, and frankly, there are times when I'd prefer actual malicious intent over stupidity. At least then I can attack back...
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Day 74
You cannot recognize and accept true love if you have not yet recognized and accepted your true self. This is my own quote... and I keep telling myself this... not to excuse her behavior, because there is no excuse for what she did to us. But as an explanation of what happened, of why we never had a chance to make it work.
She is now claiming that we are the "ultimate" liars because we said we could accept her for who she is and we couldn't. I know she believes that to be 100% true, too, because that is what she does. She convinces herself - and those around her - of what she thinks should be true or what she wants to be true. It doesn't much matter if it isn't the truth, because for her, within seconds of thinking it, it IS the truth.
For a while, I have thought she took something intangible from us... something we can never get back. I talked to him about it, though, and the more I think about it, the more I realize it's just not true. Our marriage is every bit as whole as it was when we met her. We wanted to share our lives with her, but it wasn't something we "needed" in any way. I know he loves me even more than he did when we met her, and the same is true of me for him. So, what did she take? Nothing, really. What was left behind was even stronger than what she found.
I am angry. I am hurt by the fact that she is now pinning the blame on us because we couldn't accept who she was. All we couldn't accept was the lying. For every lie I know about, if she'd just been honest, we'd still be together - with one crucial exception. She lied to herself and to us about who she is and what she wanted. I am not sure if she even knew what she wanted or who she was, but she morphed into who she thought we wanted. Every change she made that we questioned, she swore was for herself... we may have opened her eyes to the matter at hand, but she wanted those changes for her. I see the things she's doing now and realize how few of those changes were really for herself. I wish I at least believed that she learned valuable lessons in her relationship with us - as she claimed when it ended - but based on her actions and words, I can see she clearly has learned little, and sadly she probably never will.
I'm slowly letting go. I don't go to her profiles much anymore. I blocked her on facebook and took her off my MySpace page. I haven't said a word to her in over three weeks, nor do I intend to again if it can be avoided. I don't think she hurt us intentionally, at least not in the grand scheme of things... but her naivete and her inability to know her true self at the age of 40 hurt us. She let us put our marriage on the line for her when she had no idea who she really was or what she really wanted... and THAT more than anything else makes me angry.
I am no longer sure of anything where she is concerned. I don't know what was real for her, if any of it was. I only know she convinced herself it was real when that mattered most.
This makes me sad. I know what I felt was real. I loved her dearly. Problem is, I loved a version of her she created just for me, and he loved a version created just for him.
Lies are often much more plausible, more appealing to reason, than reality, since the liar has the great advantage of knowing beforehand what the audience wishes or expects to hear.
~Hannah Arendt
We must be our own before we can be another's. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
These are two quotes I think of now when I think of her... and what I want more than anything at this point is just one day where I don't think of her. I'm sure that will come in time. There's no magic wand, and I can't pretend she never existed because that would be ridiculous. So, I wait it out. It gets easier each day. I no longer miss her. I don't look for her at night anymore like I used to. I don't feel what had been the vast emptiness on her side of the bed as anything but some nice open space. I don't get three plates when making dinner. I don't see the time and feel like she should be calling. My time is filled with friends and my husband... and all the love I had before her, combined with the emotional support of new friends I might not be so close to without the end of my relationship with her.
I don't love her anymore. Not on any level. I know I did, once... but that has faded with all that has come to pass, and I have taken back the love I gave her, and it just means more love to give to my husband. He has all that he had before her, and even more than that now.
It gets easier and easier... and someday I will look back and be able to find the good moments that currently elude me because they're rife with suspicion and doubt.
For now, I take it as it comes. I hardly cry about her now. Maybe once a week, and usually they're angry tears, not sad. I don't wonder where she is or what she's doing 95% of the time. Not long ago, I wondered that 100% of the time.
My friend told me today that if she was in my shoes, she wouldn't allow what K did to taint who I am, to take anything away from what I felt... and that was good advice. It is something I will think about when I start to doubt, when I start to feel like I threw a year of my life away. What I felt was real. What I did was real. It matters because of that, regardless of her true feelings - which I doubt even she herself knows.
It is simple, if not easy... it is over, and I am moving on. My marriage remains strong and amazing. I have my best friend wrap his arms around me every night as I go to sleep. I am held in his arms, and protected by his love. I know - without any doubts - that his love is as real as it gets and that he is the true love of my life, and I of his.
So, I allow myself the time to vent, to wallow, and I'm sure, to whine. I get angry, I get sad. I feel every emotion, recognize the truth in it, figure out where it comes from and what to do with it, and I move on. With every revelation, with every step in the process, I grow a little emotionally. I grow as a wife. I become more, somehow, than I already was. I will never be the person I was before her, but I will be a better person because of the shared experience with him. I can't ask for more than that.
She is now claiming that we are the "ultimate" liars because we said we could accept her for who she is and we couldn't. I know she believes that to be 100% true, too, because that is what she does. She convinces herself - and those around her - of what she thinks should be true or what she wants to be true. It doesn't much matter if it isn't the truth, because for her, within seconds of thinking it, it IS the truth.
For a while, I have thought she took something intangible from us... something we can never get back. I talked to him about it, though, and the more I think about it, the more I realize it's just not true. Our marriage is every bit as whole as it was when we met her. We wanted to share our lives with her, but it wasn't something we "needed" in any way. I know he loves me even more than he did when we met her, and the same is true of me for him. So, what did she take? Nothing, really. What was left behind was even stronger than what she found.
I am angry. I am hurt by the fact that she is now pinning the blame on us because we couldn't accept who she was. All we couldn't accept was the lying. For every lie I know about, if she'd just been honest, we'd still be together - with one crucial exception. She lied to herself and to us about who she is and what she wanted. I am not sure if she even knew what she wanted or who she was, but she morphed into who she thought we wanted. Every change she made that we questioned, she swore was for herself... we may have opened her eyes to the matter at hand, but she wanted those changes for her. I see the things she's doing now and realize how few of those changes were really for herself. I wish I at least believed that she learned valuable lessons in her relationship with us - as she claimed when it ended - but based on her actions and words, I can see she clearly has learned little, and sadly she probably never will.
I'm slowly letting go. I don't go to her profiles much anymore. I blocked her on facebook and took her off my MySpace page. I haven't said a word to her in over three weeks, nor do I intend to again if it can be avoided. I don't think she hurt us intentionally, at least not in the grand scheme of things... but her naivete and her inability to know her true self at the age of 40 hurt us. She let us put our marriage on the line for her when she had no idea who she really was or what she really wanted... and THAT more than anything else makes me angry.
I am no longer sure of anything where she is concerned. I don't know what was real for her, if any of it was. I only know she convinced herself it was real when that mattered most.
This makes me sad. I know what I felt was real. I loved her dearly. Problem is, I loved a version of her she created just for me, and he loved a version created just for him.
Lies are often much more plausible, more appealing to reason, than reality, since the liar has the great advantage of knowing beforehand what the audience wishes or expects to hear.
~Hannah Arendt
We must be our own before we can be another's. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
These are two quotes I think of now when I think of her... and what I want more than anything at this point is just one day where I don't think of her. I'm sure that will come in time. There's no magic wand, and I can't pretend she never existed because that would be ridiculous. So, I wait it out. It gets easier each day. I no longer miss her. I don't look for her at night anymore like I used to. I don't feel what had been the vast emptiness on her side of the bed as anything but some nice open space. I don't get three plates when making dinner. I don't see the time and feel like she should be calling. My time is filled with friends and my husband... and all the love I had before her, combined with the emotional support of new friends I might not be so close to without the end of my relationship with her.
I don't love her anymore. Not on any level. I know I did, once... but that has faded with all that has come to pass, and I have taken back the love I gave her, and it just means more love to give to my husband. He has all that he had before her, and even more than that now.
It gets easier and easier... and someday I will look back and be able to find the good moments that currently elude me because they're rife with suspicion and doubt.
For now, I take it as it comes. I hardly cry about her now. Maybe once a week, and usually they're angry tears, not sad. I don't wonder where she is or what she's doing 95% of the time. Not long ago, I wondered that 100% of the time.
My friend told me today that if she was in my shoes, she wouldn't allow what K did to taint who I am, to take anything away from what I felt... and that was good advice. It is something I will think about when I start to doubt, when I start to feel like I threw a year of my life away. What I felt was real. What I did was real. It matters because of that, regardless of her true feelings - which I doubt even she herself knows.
It is simple, if not easy... it is over, and I am moving on. My marriage remains strong and amazing. I have my best friend wrap his arms around me every night as I go to sleep. I am held in his arms, and protected by his love. I know - without any doubts - that his love is as real as it gets and that he is the true love of my life, and I of his.
So, I allow myself the time to vent, to wallow, and I'm sure, to whine. I get angry, I get sad. I feel every emotion, recognize the truth in it, figure out where it comes from and what to do with it, and I move on. With every revelation, with every step in the process, I grow a little emotionally. I grow as a wife. I become more, somehow, than I already was. I will never be the person I was before her, but I will be a better person because of the shared experience with him. I can't ask for more than that.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Day 73
Air fills my desperate lungs
Not registered by my brain
And fear is leaden on my chest
I cannot make myself believe
That this is not imminent death
Not registered by my brain
And fear is leaden on my chest
I cannot make myself believe
That this is not imminent death
Monday, April 26, 2010
Day 72
On the eve of what would have been our one year "virtual wedding" anniversary with Rhy, I am reminded of something. She has nothing real. I have everything I did before her, and so much more.
I told my husband I still have something to celebrate tomorrow, and it is what I celebrate every day. Him. Our love.
And so, continuing my experimentation with poetic forms, I present you the "cinquain," titled "Her Legacy."
****
She left
Ruins behind
But could not take from us
What we have for so long cherished
Pure love
I told my husband I still have something to celebrate tomorrow, and it is what I celebrate every day. Him. Our love.
And so, continuing my experimentation with poetic forms, I present you the "cinquain," titled "Her Legacy."
****
She left
Ruins behind
But could not take from us
What we have for so long cherished
Pure love
Friday, April 23, 2010
Day 71
No longer am I haunted by memories
of her lips against mine
of the sweetness of her laughter
Or the softness of her hair
She belongs to the wind
and it has wrested from her
the dreams of love she thinks she clings to
And happiness will remain elusive, snatched by each new gust
of her lips against mine
of the sweetness of her laughter
Or the softness of her hair
She belongs to the wind
and it has wrested from her
the dreams of love she thinks she clings to
And happiness will remain elusive, snatched by each new gust
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Day 70
I can finally say I am no longer in love with her. Maybe it took learning she's just not even remotely the person I thought she was. I'm pretty sure she's not the person she thought she was, or thought she wanted to be, either. She is a chameleon. She changes her colors to suit her environment. What she thinks is needed or wanted is what she automatically does, I think without realizing that she is sacrificing her own wants, needs and desires to try to fit into someone else's life or lives.
I'm angry, though. I was who I am with her. I wasn't perfect, and I made mistakes. But I owned my mistakes. Now, she gets to be the person she was when we met her, the one she said she didn't want to be anymore (because she thought that's what we wanted to hear)... and I get to hurt and wonder why? She is playing games. She's 40 years old, nearly 41. I was talking to a friend about her and from what I said, they thought she was young and misguided. I said she is - emotionally speaking. It often felt more like we were her parents than her partners.
I'm past the point where I cry because I miss her. I feel like the person I miss never existed, so why bother crying? But I feel betrayed and hurt... and stupid. I imagine those feelings will linger for some time yet.
I remember her telling me once that if we broke up it would be "months" before she'd be able to move on, but I also know for a fact that she's already moved on. Which is fine, I suppose... I have no right to her anymore and she's single. But it's still a slap in the face. It makes me think what we had was a castle built of sand - something that washes away as easily as it was built, and as completely as if it never existed in the first place.
.
But it was real for me. I know this. I know that she can't take that away from me... no matter what.
So, through the anger and frustration, I cling to that reality - because it's the only one I know for sure existed.
I'm angry, though. I was who I am with her. I wasn't perfect, and I made mistakes. But I owned my mistakes. Now, she gets to be the person she was when we met her, the one she said she didn't want to be anymore (because she thought that's what we wanted to hear)... and I get to hurt and wonder why? She is playing games. She's 40 years old, nearly 41. I was talking to a friend about her and from what I said, they thought she was young and misguided. I said she is - emotionally speaking. It often felt more like we were her parents than her partners.
I'm past the point where I cry because I miss her. I feel like the person I miss never existed, so why bother crying? But I feel betrayed and hurt... and stupid. I imagine those feelings will linger for some time yet.
I remember her telling me once that if we broke up it would be "months" before she'd be able to move on, but I also know for a fact that she's already moved on. Which is fine, I suppose... I have no right to her anymore and she's single. But it's still a slap in the face. It makes me think what we had was a castle built of sand - something that washes away as easily as it was built, and as completely as if it never existed in the first place.
.
But it was real for me. I know this. I know that she can't take that away from me... no matter what.
So, through the anger and frustration, I cling to that reality - because it's the only one I know for sure existed.
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