"...your best intentions may not be enough..."



the pain in your voice pierced me. i hate hearing it. 
it cuts me like a knife, filleting my soul, causing me 
pain, too. i've said "i'm sorry" a thousand times in 
the years since i left you, and meant it from the bottom 
of my heart. you never heard me when i whispered to 
you in the dark, lying beside your sleeping body, my 
hand pressed against your chest over your heart. i 
needed to tell you secret things and so i did, not 
realizing that if i'd said them when you were awake, 
they might have made some difference in the way 
things were between us. i wore my faithfulness to 
you like a badge of honor, over my own heart. i loved 
only you for 21 years. in the last year my eye wandered 
to other men, imagining them better able to love the 
wild side of me. no one ever could. no one ever did. 


the next time you love, love wildly. love straight from 
your heart and hold nothing back. someone will love 
you again, someone will see the tender, funny side of 
you and cherish it. i wish you every joy, every desire 
granted. i wish you peace and contentment in your old 
age, a warm hand to hold yours, a pair of warm arms to 
hold you during the cold storms that come into every life.
 

and what do i want for me? peace. solitude. gentle rain 
on days off so i can curl up with a good book and dream 
away the rest of my life. i want film for my cameras and 
a photographer's eye. i want roses growing beside the 
house, tomatoes in the garden, grilled hamburgers in 
the summer with fresh corn-on-the-cob. i want this music 
to never end. i want to see my sons as old men, as 
grandfathers. i want walls filled with wedding and graduation 
pictures. i want windows open to soft warm nights, curtains 
blowing in the breeze. i want a life that makes sense, that 
has purpose and direction. but mostly, i want to be alone. 
i want to be faithful to myself, loyal to myself. i don't want 
to cause anyone any pain ever again. 


denise

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