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by Mariah Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Other · Biographical · #1170436
One of the stories of me......
LIFE DOESN’T WAIT

“Love is for saps who believe in an unattainable state of being.” I’ve been known to say that once or twice and on some levels I believe it.

The quest for love is often wrought with disappointment. Not just in relationships lost or in the one that got away, but sometimes in the one that stayed. Love, so elusive for some, experienced in what seems a fleeting moment and yet instantaneous for others often times lasting a lifetime. Love at first sight, at first gasp, at first words. Some, as they say, are lucky in love. Me? No…..not for me. For me it has been anticipation met with disappointment, in the one that goes away and in the one that stayed. But if I’m honest, mostly in myself.

With the one that stayed, I’m disappointed in not just him, but in me. Disappointed because I saw yet I didn’t hear. Sometimes I would hear, but I wouldn’t listen. I saw with my eyes his anger and his rudeness. Yet I didn’t hear my fear. I saw him pretend, I saw him try. I could see his lips say “I love you” but what I heard was the hallow echo of a chest without a heart. I heard it but I didn’t listen. Harsh some may say, my reply would be “come and see.” Come and see a man who doesn’t believe…..not really – not deep down where you speak to only yourself – words meant for only your own ears – that he is not worthy of being loved. It’s a story long in words and deep with meaning. “Come and see” I would say, a man who doesn’t know what it means to be loved and therefore does what he thinks is right. What he doesn’t realize, is that in the wake of his inability to connect, leaves the one who loves him the most feeling devalued and discarded. Resented and empty. Trying to show love and to give it only to see it fall on the floor and abandoned. Does he do it on purpose you ask? No……I don’t believe so. The unconscious is a powerful weapon against our pain. No he doesn’t realize, if he did………well, then maybe life would have turned out different. 10 years of marriage is a terrible thing to waste if it can be saved. But life doesn’t wait. It continues to live. “Wait” I try to tell it – but it pulls me along. I’m disappointed because I cannot wait, for me the cost is to great.

I’m disappointed in myself because I do not hear. I did not listen to my spirit when I chose to give something up for the good of my marriage. It is expected of me…….isn’t it? But I love that part of me I would say. “No, you are a wife now” I would tell myself. You are going to be a pastor’s wife. With that comes responsibility and expectations. “But I love this part of me”……I would whisper as I threw out my collection of music from the decade of neon, big hair, brooches, pegged pants, white socks, black loafers, jellies and music videos. “Goodbye” I would say. A conscious decision made by me. I tried with all of my heart to become what I thought was expected. What I failed to realize was that in that moment, I began to loose sight of me…..In the end “me” was the unknown. But sometimes, if I turned quickly enough I could see her. In my minds eye, she is confident, educated and beautiful. She is kind and thoughtful, insightful yet opinionated and direct. She laughs with her friends and shares a love with her daughter that runs deep and a connection that would buffer their relationship all their lives. But then I turn around again and I’m alone. Alone with whom I have become. I don’t know this person and how she got here. But with time I slowly begin to understand. I begin to understand that in failing to stand up for what is important to me, I failed myself and my husband. I failed to see how in losing sight of myself I lost site of what was beautiful about our relationship. He fell in love with all of me. Who I had become must have felt foreign to him too. So he’s not alone with the fault. I failed too. But life doesn’t wait for you to figure it out. It continues to live. “Are you sure?” I ask it, I’ve never been alone. “Yes” whispers the universe, “come with me and you will see.”

Rediscovery is a powerful thing. Understanding you in a depth that would leave most holding fast to their denial and repression. What I have learned is that strength isn’t found in holding down the fort. It’s in the dismantling. It is in the arms of your awareness of your pain. In the weight of your decisions of the past. It is in your words that say “I am.” It is found in the tears of your pain. A strength only found within the courage of your eyes as they open when they want to remain closed. NO they say as they close so tightly that all the eye cream in the world from L’Oreal to Channel couldn’t shoo away the crows. But in the midst of their defiance, of my defiance, there is a voice. It comes from a place where you can not hear. It is gentle yet strong, soft yet loud enough to grab your attention. Direct yet loving, it envelops you with arms as it seems to say……”it’s all right. You are going to be all right.” The crows begin to loosen their grip and as they begin to fly away I become aware of my surroundings. I become aware that I am there alone, in a room built of bricks. I’m surrounded by mementos of all that brings me pain, of all that brings me guilt, of all that brings me shame. ‘It’s all right” the voice says. “Do you see it? Look around. Notice all of it. It is all here.” I say to this voice “I don’t want to. It hurts too much.” The voice replies “then why is it here? You are the one who hung these pictures of your past, who wrote your description that you tack up on the mirror for you to see as you get ready every morning. You posted the reminders on your door as you come in and on the windows so that it blocks out the sun.” I look around and see just how closed in I am. How I have created this space, this box. I have closed it off from the world and this is what I have chosen to surround myself with. “Why? Why would I do this to myself?” I ask. The voice answers me. “It is your definition. It is how you have chosen to define who you are.” I begin to cry. I begin to see how by my own choices, by my own doing, I have surrounded myself with only my pain, my guilt and my shame. I have closed myself off from all that is good. “But why?” I wonder. “As do I” said the voice. “That is for you to discover.” I stand there among the mementos of all that I long to forget. I turn slowly looking at it all, not wanting to but now I am unable to close my eyes. And slowly, I no longer want to. I want to see. I want to clean. I want to rid myself of this mess. I begin to pick up and discard. Because today is a new day. It is a day of dawning with a sun so bright and vibrant that despite my very cool and sexy sunglasses, I squint my eyes, keeping an eye out for those crows who may try to return……….

In this new day, this new season, I am open. I am open to myself and to my thoughts. I am aware of me. It is new and is something to get used to. I’m not very skilled in this yet. It’s funny. It’s funny that I devote my life to helping people reach this very moment in their lives yet I was so unaware of what “this” really is. I’m beginning to see though. It is scary on some levels because I don’t really know what to do with myself yet I’m excited to find out. I discover new things about myself that I had forgotten or never realized was there. In the midst of this discovery, there comes a question. “Would you be interested in meeting a friend of mine?” I’m taken by surprise. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

It’s a date, a blind one. My friend describes what resembles my dreams. His skin is darker than mine, a flavor that I can’t seem to go without. Craving it especially at night when my leg moves to drape over …..or I turn over to rest my head and it falls to the mattress waking me…..”oh” I say to myself…….that’s right. “I’m alone.” I’m reminded that sleeping alone takes a long time to get used to. But I digress…… Yes, the date. He is built like a ““#$!@ brick house.” I smile as I have always been fond of my football playin, gym workin, chest to die for and thighs that ……….….sorry….I’m back. There is a catch though. Isn’t there always? He doesn’t live here. He is only here for a while. He contracts for a local company in a very specific capacity that he travels the country working for like companies that are in need of his skills. I’m intrigued. So I say yes.

Everything is set. It is my favorite restaurant. We’re meeting for dinner – there will be four of us. It takes three days to figure out what to wear. I arrive the usual and customary 10 minutes late only to find that he too knows the rules and I have beaten him there. Soon he arrives and immediately I know……..I’m in trouble. A kind of trouble that your heart alerts you to. You know the one. It starts to beat faster, your breathing slowly becomes shallow, and butterflies in your stomach say “Oh My Lord.” with every flutter of their wings. Your hands start to find something to keep them busy – they can’t look for fear they loose control and the next thing you know they find a seemingly innocent and subtle way to make contact with him. His voice is deep and sooo sexy. I close my eyes for a brief moment to try and collect myself. Yes……..I’m in deep trouble. If only I knew just how deep……….

As he arrived and is sitting down, the waiter comes. I hadn’t ordered a drink yet and he looks at me, before I can say anything he says “Tanqueray and tonic?” I gasp to myself……”how does he know that?” My friend doesn’t know my drink of choice so I know he didn’t tell him.” But I smile hiding my surprise and my interest and with an air that is charming and warm I say “that is exactly what I was thinking.” He smiles, orders our drinks and the waiter returns to the bar. We begin to talk and to make a long story with many words short and to the point, we connect that night. We stay and talk long after our mutual friends leave. We find many things to discuss and find many similar interests. Before we realize, it is time to leave. The wait staff is standing around waiting for us to finish….He walks me to the car; we exchange numbers and he gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

As I walk in the door of my apartment, I am greeted by a blinking red light. A light that says someone tried to reach you. I push the button. It’s him. I smile as I hear him say how much he enjoyed talking with me, how pretty I am and how he wants to see me again very soon. He says good night and I float into bed unable to sleep.

We see each other the entire time he is here. His eyes are soft and tender. He feels deeply and shares much of himself with me. We talk of many things. We grow very close. We spend evenings on the sofa, candles lit, tanqueray in hand and Sade playing softly behind our head. We say nothing, just relaxing together. It feels like home. My hand reaches up behind me and caresses his bald and sexy head. We kiss softly….the rest is for he and I alone to share and to remember.

But all too soon it is time for him to go. He tells me there is an opening at this facility and he is applying for it. It would mean permanency – and we could be together. I am breathless at the thought. Nothing would make me happier. Nothing.

He doesn’t get the job.

We stay in contact and we speak of being together again. Again he talks of plans. I adore him and am hopeful. I miss him. I miss his voice, his touch, his tender lips. My head misses his chest, my hands his skin. I miss caressing that sexy bald head and feeling his lips on my neck and other places. But most of all I miss him. He calls off and on now. He is off in other parts of the country. We see other people. But we still have a connection that we come back to time and time again. If you have ever watched Sex in the City – I am Carrie and he is Big. When we grow close, he pulls away then draws me back to him again. There comes a point when the pain is too great. I try to date other men. I find someone who wants to be with me. I find myself searching for a reason not to. I pull away. No one seems to fit me - not like him. At the time, I don’t realize that is what I am doing. All I know is that my frustration grows with not being able to find someone. They are there yet I cannot see. I cannot get past him. Despite the growing disappointment with plans made and loving words spoken yet we are still apart. I am holding on to him. I hold on until my hands can no longer find what it is that they were holding onto. I have to let go.

If I am to move on and find someone who truly wants to be with me, I have to let him go - in my mind and more importantly in my heart. Just as Carrie said to Big “You can’t keep doing this to me anymore. You can’t call me anymore and come back into my life just when I’m finding happiness again. I don’t live here anymore.” I too had to say good-bye. I cried. I didn’t want to do it. I wanted our plans to work and our lives to come together. But I had to finally admit that I probably wanted it more than he did. And that hurt even more. It was then that I heard the voice again. That same voice that led me to see what I tried to hide. She said “Why do you do this? Why do you give your love to someone who doesn’t give it back in return? Aren’t you worth more than an occasional phone call? What are you surrounding yourself with now? What is your value?” I know I must let go. I know that I deserve to be taken seriously, honored, respected, and loved. I just wanted it to be from him. “I know” says the voice, “I know.”

Today we still talk on occasion and he still talks of being together. A part of me still longs for that too, but I have let it go. It no longer carries the same weight. I know it is just hopeful talk. My heart is disappointed and sometimes I find myself saying “Love is for saps who still believe in an unattainable state of being.”

For me, life continues to go on. “Wait” I try to tell it – “he’ll come back to me.” “I can’t” whispers the universe as it pulls me along. I’m disappointed because I cannot wait, for me the cost is to great.

Much love,

Mariah
© Copyright 2006 Mariah (mariah at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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