watching it die

Things come to me in strange spurts. These moments of brilliant light.

He used to walk into the room and take my breath away. Even after years of marriage, if asked about him i would get all choked up and smile.

He was my world. I needed nothing else, but to feel loved by him in return. He was never an easy man. He is a perfectionist to the core. Posessive about HIS STUFF. Gets down right obsessive about things, his hobbies, his truck. I always knew he loved me but accepted i was not HIS focus. Simply a nice piece of adornment on the side. But for years it was enough. I was busy raising our daughter, building my business. Doing all the things i though made him proud of me. I worked hard, paid for nice vacations for us. Made life as financially easy as possible for him. I took care of myself. He never had to worry about me or our girl.

Now she is grow. Living on her own. And in the beginning of her moving out things seemed to be heading in the right direction. We cooked meals together, cleaned the kitchen together, shared the couch. But his heart attack changed our world. I thought i had lost him. It renewed my devotion to him. And ended his for me. He became over run by his fear. And i became the source of that fear. He hid from me the fact that he was having chest pain during sex. I became the enemy. And in time i began to feel alone. Lost, scared, wondering if OUR life would ever return.

It is almost the 2 year anniversary of his incident as he calls it. And he has made little effort to come close to me again. He sleeps wrapped in his fuzzy blankets. His cacoon of comfort, upside down in the bed. He knows it bothers me, so he tries to flip over befor the alarm clock goes off. But in the middle of the night i roll over to his feet. I could not touch him if i tried.

He has been given a clean bill of health. But wont touch me. If i broach the subject i am being pushey and not understanding. He will on occasion decide to shut me up with some physical attention. Yes he has some ED from the medication. But we never just made love in the traditional way. Still his pride keeps him from me. The doctor gave him little blue pills. A year ago he tried half of one, declared it a failure and refuses to try again. Honeslty it has left me feeling so unimportant. I am, according to one therapist, supposed to morn the loss of my sex life and be happy to have a living husband. Suck it up and move on. How am i supposed to just surrender to who i am and what i need? To give up even more. I have already lost my husband, my lover. he has changed. He is now even more focused on himself.  only a recent illness of my own has made him pay any attention to me.

He is a good man. dont get me wrong. He is kind and loving. Sweet to the point that every woman i know tells me how lucky i am. Yes good looking, but he is clueless as to his charms. He loves our daughter but is a bit of a hard ass some times. Expects the world to live up to his traditional standards of life. But he does not need people. He only needs his toys to be content. We have no social life, few friends. None we go out with. If it were not for my job i would have no circle of people i call friend.  He wants me with him on weekends and evenings. He says he never sees me. But even when we are together he is off doing his stuff and does not include me.

I just don’t know what to do anymore. I am lost, sad, alone, needy. How long am i supposed to be like this? Waiting for him to come back to be? Wondering if i will ever be the focus of his world, the way he has been mine.

I watched him undress last night in preperation to get a shower. A sight that once made my little heart pound. And felt nothing. The realization of that cut me to the core. And then i began to wonder, does the sight of me naked move him at all anymore, or is it just another day in our life?

I feel like a stranger sitting on the outside watching this marriage die. Like a plant left in the sun to long, with an owner who refuses to water it. It has held on until its last leaf had hit the ground. The roots dug in deep, praying for even a drop to sustain them. Never surrendering, never giving up hope. Staring at a rain cloud over head. Knowing that in the end, it will wither and die from want. How long, how long do i wait? or do i just accept it and live in a dry desolate lonely desert of a life?

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battle scars

i am a woman tattered and torn

the years of life have not always been kind

I weep for love lost, and love found

my soul cries for love yet undiscovered

My skin aches from his lack of touch

and my eyes are blury from the tears

he stares at me as words of truth and sadness spill from my lips

lips that have so long been unkissed

kisses of sweet surrender

passion fuled, lust filled kisses

My distain for this life edging to the surface

My flesh marked by the scars

not from blades and knives

but from the empty sadness that fills the once loved places

places where lips once laid kisses

where fingeres once traced the curves of my flesh

a now barren and empty land

i am a woman tattered and torn

covered in the battle scars of a infertile life

early morning

slivers of  light through the window

and my mind wanders to you

do you lay sleeping in the warmth of your bed

or  like me are you gazing up at the sky

begging for one last view of the moon

time holds us in this moment

trapped like pheasant under glass

something once regal

now left for consumption

here to satisfy someones needs

In the early pre dawn light

this time is my own

my thoughts my own

my dreams my own

and yet there you are

I wonder

am i in yours

my last try

Dressed in lace, full skirt, high boots. Every feminine aspect boosted. Hair fully fluffed, makeup on, and scented with roses.

I took him to dinner. listened with intent to his every word.

He told me that i looked lovely. And when we got home my dress hit the floor. I stood there in something that would weaken any man. All except the one standing in front of me. He walked away and left me standing there wanting.

Until i find the strength to try again, this is my last try.

the gift of patience

Life is a funny thing. we are taught from the time we are young to be patient. But we live in this world that is GIVE IT TO ME NOW.
And we fall into that. wanting love now, happiness now.
We want it all and we want it this second.
But i have learned that the greatest joys come with time. the waiting creates longing. time makes you talk before you act. You get to know the heart and soul of another person when you are forced to be PATIENT.
Life’s deepest, truest connections are made, not in the blink of an eye, not in the beat of a heart. But in the flow of time.
Everyone can be perfect for a few months. but then the cracks start to show. The reality of another person is in their flaws. And with time you discover if you can love that person, flaws and all. You take the time to invest yourself in them and they in you. Bumps and bruises, mysteries and magic.
when time shows you if the frog is truly a prince or just a nasty old toad.
So i have waited. Because once or twice in life i fell to fast. Cared to much, to deeply. And time showed me that toads do come in fancy clothes. That what you think you want, is not what you need.
And that what you need may be in a very diferent place than where you are now.
That stepping out of your comfort zone can bring great joy. And that change is the stepping stone of life. So slow down. Smell the flowers. Look before you leap. And when you know that love is true and deep and safe and warm JUMP.
Because if you were patient, then you will have waited for the flower to bloom and you can see its true beauty.

what could of been

playfull moments shared between two people

secrets told and kept

passion stirred

hopes yet to be meet

we shared these silly things

told our hopes and dreams

we learned along the way

and then we parted

we became friends not lovers

shared secrets still with each other

we know more than most folks do

and on the way we found something true

you can not say love is this or that

it is more than a colorful chat

it does not need a lovers touch

it is deeper and truer than such

so i do not think of what could of been

i look back on the past and smile

because i have a truer friend

and i know she makes you smile

 

wanton

my phone rings and i pause

it is her on the line

i want to answer

but i pause

I was shocked by her actions

i was not  prepared

but i kissed her anyways

and i liked it

days went by and i heard from her not

my lust growing inside like a knot

then finally one day she called and i ran

straight to her bed like a tramp

once agian time has passed

and i have see her just once

the taste of her kiss on my lips

and i stare at the phone

she has made me wanton

craving the touch of her skin

the kiss of her lips on my thigh

the hint of bruises like last time

will i answer the phone

i shake my head

for i hope that today

i end up in her bed

is it enough

I have been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.  To trust in his love for me.

Knowing that i will never get the sex i want from him. But  knowing that in his own way he loves me. But i do not know if it is enough.

 

He is worried about my health. Even to the point of taking off a day from work to go to the doctor with me, something he never does. And suprisingly he is driving his truck.

He was nice to the future son in law. Took him to the range and they had a nice time. He cooked me a wonderful dinner. And yes we even had sex. god it was awful. Less than 5 min from first kiss to clean up. And every time it causes me to shatter into tears. It will never again give me what i truly need.

 

So i sit and wonder if it is enough. What kind of woman am i if it is not?