Ernest Hemingway said to write clear and hard about what hurts. Here's what hurts: nostalgia. It hits hardest in the winter, when trees are bare and the sunshine is weak and the long nights just mean more time to reminisce.
I'm watchin' country music videos and singin' my own version of the blues.
It's been an emotional few days. High "highs" have been followed quickly by the low "lows" of disappointment.
someone i love bared his heart as he shared the pain i've been carrying for the last year. the pain of reality vs fantasy. what we want vs what we have. "if only" vs "there's just no way".
But fantasy can never be reality.
A "fantasy" is always perfect and even a perfect "reality" isn't really perfect.
No individual, no couple can exist in such an imperfect fantasy of perpetual perfection.
In other words:
if you had me I would disappoint you. sooner or later.
i feel like i disappoint you now,
and i'm often disappointed by you. and i grieve. one day you are so "here" and then like a whisper you are gone. i need you and i reach out for you. but the place where you were is empty and cold and i don't know when or if you will return. and i grieve.
anger, hurt and a wounded pride make me bitter and i wish i'd never known you.
but loneliness, love and longing win and i wait anxiously.
i stand at the waters edge and watch for your sail on the horizon.
i refuse to hear the truth in the wind saying "this is only the beginning of another end".
and even though I know the tide will turn and the circle of loss will begin again i hope against all hope that this time will be different. but it never is.
how tragic that "every hello is the beginning of a long good bye"
Maybe that's why so many couples don't make it.
Over time the fantasy of perfection begins to crack and then one day they wake up and find two very flawed people in a bed that once held two who were perfectly joined.
I wouldn't know. I was never joined in perfection. I was joined by necessity. I was thankful for a place of escape and safety.
In other words:
if you had been the "lucky" one, i would have found that place of safety in you.
you on the other hand would find that the temptress in your arms was wounded and cold. in time you would dread being tied down, and used.
this is what i fear most; i need. like a huge vacuum i take, pull and demand. in time you will feel tied down and used. in time your love will turn to dread.
The holidays always shine a bright light on the cracks in my marriage.
There have been some tense moments this weekend. A strain. An undertone of anger, frustration and disappointment.
My husband NEVER verbally shares these emotions. He is a man of complete control. But I know they are there. I can feel them in that place where words dare not go.
35 years of trying to pull from him what he refuses to give has left me quiet. I do not share often. I do not share my frustrations because he takes them personally and his tendency to withdraw becomes extreme. I do not share my joys because he does not understand them and mostly ignores them. I do not share my hopes, dreams, laughter or tears.
During times like this we are quiet. We live in a world of quiet that screams so loud it is deafening.
in my loneliness i reach out for a friend but am left saddened. you have withdrawn like the tide.
i am helpless and powerless to control the uncontrollable.
you are gone and no matter my desperation i am unable to reach across this great divide.
and i wonder how many more times the circle will turn before i am crushed between the two of you.
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