Distant, Wishful Apology

I wish I could hold Her, stroking Her hair, wiping Her tears with my lips.

I wish I could stand before Her while She yells at me everything that is on Her heart, so She doesn’t have to hold it all inside.

I wish my desire to protect Her from me was strongest on the days I miss Her most.

Then maybe I would reconsider contacting Her again, and wouldn’t have to run away.

I wish I knew what She was thinking today, since I have felt utterly cut off from being able to sense Her.

I guess that is what anger does. Or guilt. Or both.

Can you tell that I am writing this more for Her today?

Hoping She is reading it and picking up on the apologetic nature of these words.

Sleep Evades the Scary Girl

I haven’t been sleeping well for several nights now, not usually a problem for me.

The first couple of nights it was due to talking with Her into the morning.

The past couple nights it has been due to worrying about Her.

I just awakened to the horrific thought of Her deleting every trace of me from Her computer–from Her life– saying, “I will never allow that girl to do this to Me again!”

I don’t blame Her for one moment.

Everyday I have to protect myself from that part of me that loves Her, too.

A Slew of Self Pity (Just Sayin’)

The drive home is less than ten hours, but road construction and anxious traveling dog issues added hours to the drive.

(As an aside, I have awakened sympathy for Mitt Romney and the whole dog-in-crate-on-the-top-of-the-familymobile situation…)

Long stretches of highway provide far too much time to think. I was an asshole to Her and haven’t heard from Her since the whole “Conscience Found Her Voice” post. I don’t blame Her. She is a Beautiful Person, and deserves to be cherished–something I can do only silently and from a distance.

I noticed as I was thinking of Her, I felt as though my heart was gasping for air. Several times throughout the day, I had to deliberately make myself breathe.

Maybe it’s good if She hates me now. It seemed bound to happen…god, when is that ever a good thing, except with obnoxious neighbors and dysfunctional relatives?

My Mind Has Two Faces

My mind has two faces…

One is present in my body.

The other is 8000 kilometers away.

One bears the responsibility of children, career, wife and home.

The other so easily forgets.

One is sensible and thinks through her decisions, her feelings.

The other thinks with the heart of her skin.

One knows how much she has hurt him.

The other knows how much she has hurt Her.

Both sides just hurt.

One side anticipates all the talking he will be doing upon her arrival home.

The other checks and checks and checks email for any signs of Her,

knowing that there will be none.

One side is irritable and quick tempered today.

The other withdrawn, shut down, and thinking far too much.

One side tries to comfort the other.

The other side will have nothing to do with it.

One side is where I know I belong.

The other side is where I am.

Stranger in My Bed

There is a stranger in my bed
I am not familiar with her self
She acts before thinking
And drinking from cups
Belonging to somebody else

There is a stranger in my bed
I watch her now, listless with regret
And impossible desire
To fix all the feelings
Of all Those who she’s ever met

There is a stranger in my bed
Trying to awaken from dreams and nightmares
Of loving and laughing
And hurting and crying
Accepting all that comes just as it is

There is a stranger in my bed
Crawling out to start her day
With children and husbands
And clients and thoughts
About how to now make her own way

Avoiding the Void


Quiet on a Saturday night
A break from the talking, laughing

Only the sound of circulating air
Spins around the rooms and halls

Tomorrow’s outstretched journey home
Should be filling my mind

But the quiet is too loud
So I make myself think of him

Alone in our empty house without
even the dog to run to him

I make myself think of him
All the stories he will tell me

About his working journey taking
us apart for two weeks

I make myself think of the normalcy
Of life’s steady routine

Trying to be grateful, cheerful
And vacate this vacation

With less than when I arrived

Conscience Found Her Voice

So at 4:00 am, my conscience finally caught up with what was happening (again). She stood over me, hand on hip, and said in her loudest Italian voice (I’m not Italian, but apparently my conscience is):

“What in the hell are you thinking? Did your brain fall out of your head? Have you forgotten what the past eight months have been like for you and your husband, nay, very forgiving life partner? Have you forgotten the tears? The apologies? The new promises? The hard work of regaining his trust? Are you INSANE?”

Ah, and where have you been?

“Don’t get smart with me. I assumed we had this fully established and were moving on to other things. I had no idea you’d pull this out of storage again! It’s like you think there are no consequences for this….You are a freak show of delusion!”

Well…I miss Her…and don’t act like this came all out of the blue…I’d been thinking about Her for days before checking that email…Where were you then, huh?

“Oh, child, don’t even start blaming this on me! My job is to set you straight –no offensive pun intended…Staying on course is your job! And don’t give me that whole longing crap. I can smell it oozing from your pores. That b.s. might work for your sappy-ass poems, but it doesn’t work on me! Good lord, what the hell kind of mess do I have to clean up now?”

Yeah, it’s kind of bad…

“Yes, I am up to date on that last post. You see that you are making it hard for Her, too, don’t you? And I don’t care if She said not to worry about Her…Are you a sociopath? It is cruel to push and pull with Her like this, knowing full well that if you try anything else, I am going to come in and kick your ass until you stop it!”

Yes, yes, you are right…

“Damn straight I am!”



I had a dream before you woke me up…I was having to prepare for some big mission with nuclear reactors by exposing myself to smaller doses of radiation for a time…I wasn’t doing it so well…I was resisting the …why do I want to say chemotherapy here?

“When the crooked road is made…er, direct for you, you get tested to see if you can hold it steady. Eventually you have to do that without me hovering over you 24/7. When you resist what you know you should be doing, it burns you out; you are resisting the flow of energy that exists to move you forward. That energy can be healing, like chemo can be for a cancer patient. Or, it can burn like misplaced radiation.”

Wow. That’s kind of deep…

“Yeah, I’m good like that.”

…and kinda out there…Not sure if readers will, you know, get into this…

“I don’t give a crap what your readers think. You didn’t even start this blog to get followers, only to process all of this about Her–and that was months ago, by the way–so why do you suddenly care what they think?”

Well, people started following and I feel sort of responsible for what I put out here…

“Oh god, get over yourself, will you?”

Right…so how do I tell Her anew?

“You probably just did.”

Right. We’ll see…Thanks, I guess…