Two Weeks-Grizzly Bears
Two weeks or so.
I don’t want him to go. I want the security of him next to me. I find myself, in short intervals, wanting to scream for him to stay, beg for him to work with me, with us to find the right answer, the right combination, that which has eluded us for so very long. I want to hold him tightly through the night.
Then, a bit later maybe, I realize that I cannot wait to exhale, to settle my feet down in my own space for the first time in years. To finally not feel like I’m intruding, or that my request for silence will be met with anger. A place of my own, after all this time. (Not to mention, I’ll finally get to mop the damn floor upstairs)
Goddamn I’m so conflicted. I suppose after 13 years of being with someone, nearly 12 of that married, it’s only normal. I wish I could hate him. Hate would be so much simpler than whatever this sweet mess is in my mouth. But I love him-as the father of my children, as a friend who can still make me giggle. I hate my body in how it betrays me, even still wanting to lean into him, drag my fingers and lips across. How can there be so much space between us, and yet I can’t turn my libido off for him? When will that end? Is it proximity? Is it blind raw need?
It’s staring at both of us. January 1. And I know I’ll be upset, staring at the empty hole in my heart, manifested as comics removed and drums packed away, barren places in the bathroom where his razors have sat for years. I miss already just talking, even though that had long since disappeared, the ability to have a conversation. Too much. Too late. I don’t know.
I know that right now, I don’t want anyone else. I want him, the him that was, and I can’t have that. I haven’t had that in years-so why is it awake now? Why can’t my brain bury the good so it won’t hurt me?
Spin Me I Pulsate 
I like that song SO much….
I do not like that this is so hard….
But I do like the fact that you have hope….
I had those moments. A few days before I moved out and found a place of my own. Now I sit back and enjoy the space. The silence. The lack of argument. I hope that it gets easier for you. Maybe once he has moved out. After the initial sticker shock of really being by yourself with all of the responsibility wears off. I hope you find peace. Or at least some form of it.
The same wind that knocks us down will also dry our tears.
It takes time.
My heart goes out to you and the girls- and with it, my mantra…
It will not be simple
It will not take long
It will take all your breath.
2 weeks: long time, short time. hate seems like a good idea at the time, but it causes just as much turmoil only of a different flavor. but then you already know that.
Oh babe, I wish I knew the words to tell you