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.

My Favorite Way to Start the Day

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Once I wake up (and luckily not to a jarring alarm clock) I get out of bed, gingerly, checking out my various aches and pains and I hear my dog’s thumping tail so I go to greet her. Before I even start my ritual of a very strong cup of coffee, I sit on the green couch, and she pulls herself into my lap and I hug and kiss her. I know the exact way she likes to be stroked, she shows me where and when, she nuzzles against me. I let her out, feed her, rinse out her slimy blue water bowl and refill with fresh, cold water. It’s only after that, which is true love, that I put water in the tea kettle, put a #4 Melitta filter in my old, cracked plastic, brown coffee cone and use three heavy-handed scoops of strong, espresso coffee mixed with a dark roast. A large serving of fat- free half and half, one or two Truvia, (or Purevia) depending on the strength and wait anxiously for the tea kettle to screech. I like to have my coffee alone so I can gather my thoughts and plan for the day. I listen to the cardinals tweet outside at my bird feeder and watch the yellow finches eat breakfast. There is no better way to start my day.