wish I knew

There's so much I wish I knew. The signs were there but nobody taught them to me. When you walled yourself off in blankets I told myself it was for comfort, even though it felt like rejection to me. An attempt to force space between us. It was that, but so you'd feel safe.

When you first started covering your face with me around I thought you were being coy and cute. Then I said you were worried about bad breathe. Eventually I realized too late you were hiding from me. Another form of protection.

How many other signs did I ignore or explain away. How many chances did I have to catch myself. I wish I knew.

I wish I knew all the little ways your body screamed for safety that I ignored or dismissed.

dead thing

 I don't know why I was trying to heal something that you already declared dead. I wasn't trying to put things back to the way they were, I only wanted to take away some of the pain and save whatever I could. But there is nothing to save. There's no need to work through resentment if there is no relationship to feel it in. There's no reason to build connections if they lead to nothing. 

I wanted to salvage as much as I could in hopes that it would help us get to a place of understanding, and maybe one day friendship. I was just putting band-aids on a dead bird, knowing it will never fly but pretending there is a chance it may hop.

I'm still trying to work through the pain I cause and the damage I've done. It's still there for me and I still have to accept it all and grow from it. That does not mean I have to keep dragging you into it though. If it is dead, then it needs to be buried and mourned, and then we have to move on. 

Little Voice

There is a little voice deep down, next to where I cage my demons. It is so quiet and soft that it sounds like wind through the leaves. I cannot understand the words, but I know what it is saying.

It is hope.

Hope that this is not the end. Hope that there's still time. Hope that I can become thw man she always wanted me to be, and that she will still be around to see it. 

We will come together again, new people in a new love that is stronger because of the broken bits and the work to repair them.

It is an impossible hope, a butterfly hoping to visit the moon before it passes. 

I have other hopes, real hopes, attainable goals. To be a better father, better partner. To know myself and heal myself. To become part of the community and make friends.

These are my focus, but that breeze still blows from the very bottom of my soul. I cannot kill it. I cannot pluck that butterflies wings, because it is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and I cannot yet bear to watch it die.

Morning beauty to rival the sunrise

She had that wild hair this morning and a pink tank top. She has these little flashes of genuine smile that makes my heart skip a beat whenever I see it. I love the way she moves about the room, the way she does her makeup, and the way she looks at herself in the mirror. Very meticulous and refined as she looks at herself, but I see this wild hair, pink tank top, beautiful smile. It makes my heart ache.

Punishment and Grace

I deserve the relationship we have now. Not just because I ruined our marriage years ago. Your writings showed that clearly. It's because of all the years you were screaming to try and reach me even through the pain, and all the years I was so cruel to you.

I hate that I put you through so much pain, that moving on was the only option you had left, and that it took you telling me that to finally cut through the fog.

The relationship we have now is not punishing me. Knowing that I hurt the one I care about most in this world, and that I did for so long and so cruelly, that is my punishment.

Still being in your life is grace. It is the sliver of light in the dark hole I've put myself.

new routine

I just want to lay in the bed... and drown. But I can't, because I made the bed after I fed the cat. I guess I'll just keep up with the routine that I created for myself. I can do this.

failing

 I try and stumble, try and then fall. she deserves so much more than I can offer. I try to meet her needs but my brain won't let me. I make choices and they are the wrong ones, but they sound so logical when my brain says them. I want to do better, to be better. The pills aren't helping. maybe they mellow me, but then I am indifferent and uncaring. my memory worsens. I feel myself more and more pulling at strings trying to reach the thought I had or the instruction I was given. therapy feels pointless. I cannot remember what it is a should talk about. 

She's going to leave me, and she has every right to. I only hope that when she finds someone new, they bring her coffee every morning, and they are unable to look away when she gets ready like I am.  They will love her the way I do, but also more because they can give her what she needs.