Blue

Woman in Blue (Photo credit: thorinside)

She stands by the window at a safe distance and looks outside

She used to be somebody I knew very well,

but I don’t know who she is anymore.

Soul-mates, matched perfectly, shadows giggling together, joyful voices floating in the air, singing like angels

Now, she is questioning everything she thought was definite.

Her pale face lined by wrinkles and her red hair is limp, lifeless dragging on her shoulders.

Big blue eyes are downcast, dull.

They used to shine with excitement, sparkle like stars, fireworks when excited.

It didn’t take much to make her happy. Little things worked easily.

It’s as if my heart was cut out

in the middle of the night without warning.

I went to sleep with the soul within me,

my arms slipping comfortably around his neck,

somewhere in the cold night I felt pulled, scared and anxious,

ripped apart leaving the warm comfort I thought we had together.

I used to know who we were but now I don’t.

There was always a secret, she knew that, was hostility it?

Passive-aggressive behavior? Something else?

She did not want to tear her family apart for a couple of remarks in many years.

But, what about settling?

What about resigning yourself to a life that is just good enough,

Accepting that things won’t get better but will stay the same or worsen.

Is that enough to keep a relationship alive?

Her parents, dead and alive, her sister, why all this grief?

Does she hate them all now?

How do you get rid of a past that still plagues you?

There are so many questions now and no answers.

Time is not my friend, time is nobody’s friend.

I am sad, miserable, drenched in uncertainty,

I look out the window and see my reflection.

The Vow

Description unavailable (Photo credit: erix!)

What happens when your married, dearest friends, stop speaking the same language

yet the giggling of their small children silence them into frozen statues?

I saw her heart being injured again, looking familiar, from the last time, but a little less severe.

Why? Because she knew this feeling already, the first time was an abomination a cruel, nasty, unforgivable hurt that stabbed her heart raw, blood gushing out, out, out.

As her friend I tried to help but I knew I couldn’t.

Did she want to break up her marriage for one cruel and very hurtful remark. He had never laid a hand on her, except that time he pushed her once when they were engaged.

She would not accept that, ever. This was emotional abuse.

For all the years that he was kind, for the children, for the companionship, she stayed.

I knew, she thought, he always kept a secret, sensing something but not the darkness and emotional cruelty underneath all the pleasantries to the public. “A nice guy. ”

He did not like confrontation, so he sabotaged their joy.

Now he is nasty and passive-aggressive, is it his age or

depression or a later mid-life crisis?

Yes, all of the above.

I had to ask her: Is he simply stupid with all-things emotional?

She nodded yes. Silently. She nodded yes.

Power attracts her, as it always did, romance too.

He had neither.

We had discussed this topic many times.

I saw her put her head in her thin, translucent hands

rocking back and forth, back and forth

too weary for tears.

Had she finally given up?

I could not hear their whispers anymore

Twenty years are a long time

Knowing them, she thought, they will stay together

and accept mediocrity.

I will ask her one last time and never again: do you realize how little he Hears you,

Understands you?

“The roses” I say, are the perfect example”

Yes, she says. I know.

I don’t ever want him to bring me those cheap gas station roses again.

We have children, she said.

I will not hurt them, we will not hurt them, those precious, light souls.

We do not hate each other, we will be companions.

It’s not always about just us, too many people think that way.

We will stay a family. For us. For them.

My Boredom Cures

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Books, Movies, TV, Blogging, Music, Writing, Computer, Books…..Still bored after all those options? Get a grip! I’m generally not bored, and I’m generally not fussy. I’ve always been able to occupy my “alone” time. In childhood, our mom said I was happy to play in my room all by myself but that my older sister needed to be entertained all the time. I see that with my own children now: my oldest child needs to be entertained and my second born is more content and doesn’t mind alone time (though she probably wouldn’t admit to it). Maybe it has to do with birth order.  The first-born child does get undivided attention, where us second born (or babies) have never known anything else except sharing. We’ve never had undivided attention. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism or just maybe we are more content. Or it’s simply a personality issue. Alone time, to me, doesn’t mean I’m bored, it means I’m comfortable with myself.