"...you don't..."

 

"You don't want me. I only bring home $17 a week..." 
and you looked at me, with those eyes i love, saying 
things with them that you could never put into words. 
i was silent and could only look at you without comprehension, 
trying to understand what you were saying. at that moment 
it finally hit me that you've never really known me at all. 


you slept beside me for 21 years, held me while i cried, 
stood beside me as i struggled to bring your children into 
the world, ate the food i prepared for you, wore the clothes 
i washed and folded for you, made love to me in anger and 
in joy, and you have never understood me at all, have never 
known what makes me tick. because it's never been about 
money, about things we acquired, about cars or houses or 
jewelry. it's been about salvation, about comfort, about the 
peace i always found in your arms, about the laughter we 
shared.

and i confess that at first i ran to you to escape my 
childhood, that you were convenient, a road to follow 
out of the madness that life had always been, though i 
did care for you. but day after day, night after night, 
you were always there, always there for me. and the 
caring that i felt for you grew into a love that frightened 
me so much, i had to leave you first before you left me. 
because everyone and everything i love leaves me eventually. 


there are parts of me missing that will never grow back, 
that will never fill in no matter who i find to fill the empty 
space where you once were. and the longer i live, the more 
i understand what i did and why i did it. the knowledge 
doesn't help make it easier to face the rest of my life without 
you. i wish it would. i'm no longer alive, i simply exist day-to-day. 
i am hollow. i can do everything i need to do to survive, can support 
myself, but i can't be alive in the same way. 

i miss you.

denise

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