You Changed Your Password

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You changed your password to your phone

You didn’t tell me

Our daughter did

And with that omission

It sent me the clear signal that our marriage is over

As far as you are concerned

This marriage is dead to you

The line is cut and there is no dial tone

After all these years

No hidden passwords between us

You tell me it is because I went to see the letter you wrote

To your family

Not knowing that you would mind

But you changed your password before you knew I had seen it

You blame the fact that I have a blog. that I keep private from you

But you have a journal and I don’t feel the need to look

What this really is…you are shutting down and shutting me out

And you have some reason to want to keep secrets

That you never had the need to keep before

I dislike you for your secrecy

Your secrecy now more important to you than our marriage

I dislike you for your timing

It doesn’t bode well for the future

But the worst part of it is

I still love you so much it hurts

Six Hours Later…

It has been interesting to me that I have been composing these recent pieces in a somewhat poetic form. I ponder why because I never choose to write in this particular style. And what occurs to me is that right now I feel raw, sad and the confusion is deep and so in writing in an unfamiliar style it almost makes it feel that it is not me that this is happening to. I am incapable of organizing my thoughts in a traditional piece so I must not be that OTHER woman, that sad one, the poetic one, who might very well end up divorced.

Yep, I am just floating down De’Nile.

THREE HOURS POST GWENNIFERR

CRAZY
Sometimes I feel like Hillary Clinton
Ignoring what appears to be in front of me for the greater good
But sometimes I wonder if you are the type of man
That slowly drives his wife crazy
Sweet and caring
Sexy and funny
Giving and kind in so many important ways
A good family man folks would say
With a part that is hidden from the public that longs to stray
I did my sexual experimentation when I was young
You didn’t
Are you wishing you had?
What is it you think you are missing?
It’s true
I’ve never “caught” you with another woman
There have been uncomfortable/inappropriate texts
A picture of another woman
And a very strange business card belonging to a woman
You swear you have no idea how THAT got in your wallet
There have been entire nights you were unreachable on business trips
We even laughed that you must be the most unlucky man in the world
When you are alone…even the front desk messes up
Must have rang the wrong room
Even though they were different hotels, different stays
Because you were in your room…all night
Oh yes, and there was that condom under our bed that I found when we were moving…maybe it was our teenager
And now Gwenniferr…again
Why the lie if everything is innocent?
But even worse, it is a stupid reckless lie
These are small things….distant enough from one another
Occurring here and there…not everyday…not every year
But when added up
Make you appear to be untrustworthy to me
Why don’t you just come clean?
There is nothing to come clean of you insist
And so I feel crazy
Maybe look crazy too
And you accuse me of not trusting you
And I don’t
For good reasonS
How can you have a marriage without trust?
We have for a while now
It’s made our bones brittle, our lungs empty, hearts heavy
And finally I realize that you can’t live without trust
Can counseling fix this?
I don’t know
Maybe it is over
And we just don’t know it yet
FOUR HOURS POST GWENNIFER
SPECIAL

I used to think our marriage was special

I really truly used to believe that with all my heart

When did that stop?

Today for sure

Before then…probably

We were friends, I thought

Fantastic lovers, I knew

Allies, maybe? sometimes

And I always thought

That you would be the one holding my hand when I passed on

Now I realize we just had a marriage

There was nothing special about it at all

It was just a plain ordinary marriage

Like everyone else has

A marriage of ups and downs

Of good and bad

Of happiness and sorrow

Of kindness and love

Of children and grandchildren

Of travel and adventure

But now the only thing left is the fantastic lover part

And that is not enough for me anymore

Trust….gone

Admiration…fled the scene

Truth…never

Friendship…well the therapist says we don’t have it

You wanted to like me again

I wanted the same of you

And then Gwenniferr re-emerged

Once again reminding me

We have less than a marriage

Because a marriage is built on truth and trust

And at this time ours appears to be built on sand

FIVE HOURS POST GWENNIFERR

HARMLESS

Your innocent flirting you said was harmless

Your unhappiness you felt until you wanted a D.I.V.O.R.C.E. was harmless

Your dishonesty was avoidance and therefore harmless

Your relationship with Gwenniferr is nothing, it’s harmless

She is like a sister to you, harmless

Your relationship to me that is imploding…harmless

Destroying our family…harmless

Your look-me-in-the-eye I’m telling you the truth, harmless

Your relationship with your children, maybe on your way to becoming a weekend father…harmless

Your innocence astounds me

And your harmless actions seer my soul

Permanent scars carved into my skin

One at a time over years

Looking like a tattoo of dragon talons swooping down

Cutting and digging into flesh

You BRAND my soul with your harmlessness

And it doesn’t feel harmless at all

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How did we get from this this song that we played at our 25th Wedding Anniversary to where we are now? I don’t understand

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZwdj1ALvf0

All I know is that we knitted this marriage for all these years and with one tug, one pull of the thread it is unraveling and the speed with which it is astounds me.

Unexpected…314 Days…Do I Even Want To Fix This?

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I showed up unexpectedly

Hopeful…for a long lunch

I never show up uninvited

But I had a hunch

We needed some more time together

You told me you were going to the gym

“Let’s go,” I said.

And you said, sure… hesitated… and then insisted on going to lunch first

I would love to go to the gym with you now

Again you insisted on going to lunch right then

We did it your way…again

THE LUNCH

Lunch was lovely

Eyes locked

Fingers touching the way they do

When you want to turn me on

Beautiful blue eyes batting at me

Smiles a million miles long

Conversation sweet but lean

The man in the booth behind us flirting at me with his eyes, his smile

And for the first time in 29 years I wondered what it might be like to flirt back

For it was nothing I had even considered…before now

THE GYM

At the gym you took me into a tiny workout room

Ellipticals you said

I love the ellipticals

And so we huffed and puffed together

And then I saw that tiny almost imperceptible wave

To shoes and a dress which were the only things visible to me

I asked who it was

Gweniferr you said

And my head exploded

But not from a lack of oxygen from too much time on the elliptical

But from all the air escaping me after being punched in the gut

Hard. AGAIN.

Oh… the same Gwenniferr with whom you exchanged inappropriate texts

Oh… the same Gwenniferr you SWORE you never saw anymore because

She never came to the gym

Oh…the same Gwenniferr you have no interest in

Even though your texts several years ago appeared to speak differently for you

OH…THAT GWENNIFERR!

The elliptical stopped

NOt realizing that I was responsible

For the inaction

I wish I was mellow dramatic and could have passed out on the floor

Ladylike, as they did in the old days

A swoon

But instead I wanted to slam my body into yours

Angry…more than that

Full of RAGE…but I kept my cool and later felt… nothing

But a gaping pit where my heart once raced when you touched me

It appears you have lied to me again

Later you showed me the rest of the facility

The huge gym with even more ellipticals surprised me

It was the gym I assume that Gwenniferr had been working out in

Usually with you?

But not today

Obviously I was unexpected by her too.

  • All words on this site are copyrighted by the author

The Doctor Is In…316 Odd Days Or So To Fix This!

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According to my Grandmother, in order for a relationship survive there must be a lot of give and take. I admit, I do more than my fair share of giving…advice that is.

Sometimes my advice is golden:

“Learn to adapt”

“Invest in quality pieces, they never go out of style.”

“Just go ahead and do your own thing. It won’t matter after you’re dead. Just don’t hurt anyone else while you are doing it.”

“Don’t compare or else the grass will always look greener from where you stand.”

But more often than not I find my advice sounds somewhat like this:

“If you do X then X will happen,” (da-da…insert evil music)

“Don’t have sex with her unless you can see yourself waking up to her for the rest of your life”…which is valid but not always helpful at the time.

“If you would only take out the trash we wouldn’t have ants”

“You should have listened to me and this never would have happened.”

Recently, I had noticed that my commentary was full of If’s and Don’ts and Should’s. In other words, I often used these if’s and should’s unintentionally as word grenades; words which when said warn the unfortunate listener that something more is coming and it usually isn’t good. They are just “pull the pin and toss” words that can have near lethal effects on a person’s soul. Words which imply that the person is lacking in some way or has failed in some sort of duty owed. While I have used these grenades on others recently I have realized I have used them consistently on myself during negative self-commentaries that came to prance through my mind from time to time. Usually the word should figures predominantly in those head games I play with myself.

“You should have…”

Frankly, I think the word should be banned because it is a word that sets a person up for a lifetime of regret and self-flagellation.

“You should have…”

Lately, I have been working on decreasing the amount of should’s, if’s and don’ts in my vocabulary. Instead, I have tried to replace them with “feel good words” like… please, could you, and it may be better if…

And it is working.  As I use gentler words my family does too infusing a sense of calm in the atmosphere of my mind and in our home.  Best of all, I find I am turning into a kinder gentler woman … a Glenda the Good type of person who helps to remind me that “There’s No Place Like Home, There’s No Place Like Home, There’s No Place Like Home!” and I finally believes it.

Happy Birthday

Yesterday Andre turned 15. It hasn’t been the easiest journey getting him there.

Autism sucks. The endless meltdowns, constant push backs and never-ending trips to the schools. Countless hours of driving back and forth for therapy: hippo, occupational, psychotherapy just to name a few. The still unresolved issues of cleaning up after himself and throwing wrappers wherever they land. And the inability to consider other people’s interests and emotional needs instead of his constant “ME, ME, ME” thinking can leave me discouraged and exhausted.

Putting Andre on numerous drugs to control tics, anxiety, and severe ADHD wasn’t on my radar. I hate using these medications the combination of which can cause side effects that go bump in the night. And the cost, even with insurance, is astronomical. But managing him is easier with them than without and he doesn’t like how he feels naked and exposed when he forgets to take his meds.

Having two boys with autism has put our marriage under stress and considering divorceimages-5. Disagreements over how to approach IEPs, how to get Andre to comply, where we should be putting out money in our never ending quest to get the boys the skills they need to navigate life. Being totally exhausted hasn’t done wonders for our time together, especially in the bedroom.

I have been at my best and at my absolute worst because of autism. I have fought harder than I ever imagined I could trying to get services. I have loved fiercer than I ever thought I knew how. I did mundane tasks repeatedly in hopes that Andre would “get it.” I have also yelled louder, gotten angrier than I ever thought I was capable, and said a few words I desperately wish I could take back. Autism has at times brought out the Jekyll and Hyde in me and taught me things about myself I desperately wish I did not know. And PTSD-like symptoms still linger when I hear prolonged screaming.

But to his credit. Andre works harder than any one I know just to survive in the world. He fights anxiety, he has severe insomnia, bright lights bother him while loud noises used to do him in. Socially, he lives in a very isolated place. He wants friends but doesn’t know how to act so that people want to spend blocks of time with him.He is very close to beginning work on his Eagle Scout, he has saved the life of a elderly woman, and he carries amazing grades in school. He loves band, once memorized a 200 page book word for word, and he can name every dinosaur known to man including where they lived and during what period.

Recently, I asked Andre if he could take a pill so he would no longer have autism if he would do it. He replied, “No, because this is who I am and I like me.”

And even though this autism journey with Andre and Paul is not the one I signed up for (think European Cruise vs Survivor in the Outback); I also know that my boys are becoming young men who are an asset to the community and our family. They will make their way in life. It may not be the life I envisioned but both boys can and will make a life that they are happy with and can be proud of.

Yes, autism sucks but for some kids with this disorder there is a light at the end of the rainbow and in this past year its brightness has intensified and let us see the light where darkness once roamed. Autism sucks but it does not rule us.

Happy Birthday, Andre. You are deeply and dearly loved. I hope others will learn to accept and love you too.

I Must Be Having A Ying/Yang Kind Of Day…UNPROTECTED

Unprotected

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Our relationship was unbalanced from the beginning.
You used me to do your bidding
Keeping yourself unblemished
While I fought your battles with your mother
And your family… one in the same
For you did not want to be tarnished
You did not want to take the chance to express or expose yourself
So I took chances for you
And expressed your thoughts when you couldn’t or wouldn’t.
I protected you when you could not protect yourself
But again and again you have thrown me to the pride
Your relationship with them built on my back
So you are the hero
I shouldn’t have fought those battles for you
I was young, naive
I thought that was part of what love was
Protection and standing up for the one you love
Now you have the luxury of blaming me
For the way things are
I wear the scars from those battles
And you run free
While I crawl away from the wreckage
My back unprotected by you
You have failed to stand up for me
You’ve had 30 years of opportunities
But chose not to use them
And all these years later
I stand here defeated and alone
And you wonder why
I feel disappointed and unprotected

I Love It When You…317 Days To Fix This

I admit it, sometimes I sound harsh. I say what is on my mind and sometimes the way it sounds doesn’t even match with what is going on in my head.

About a week ago my therapist suggested that instead of saying “I wish you would talk to me before you (insert x)” I should practice saying “I love it when you ask how I feel about (insert x) before doing (insert y). It makes me feel like our relationship is valuable to you.”

Or instead of “I wish you would open up and talk to me” I say “I love it when you open up and talk to me. It makes me feel closer to you.”

I also suspect this could be one of the best things to say when you need something a little different in the bedroom.

I wish I could say I’ve noticed a change but given it’s only been a week I cannot say I have. Yet, I am prepared to practice mindfulness and be patient for the time when “I love it when…” becomes an acknowledgement of the efforts being made followed by a sincere thank-you for trying.

I love it when you walk down this lonely road with me holding my hand tightly in yours. It makes me feel less scared of our future. – me

Window of Opportunity…318 Days To Fix This

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In the world of public policy there is what’s known as a “window of opportunity.” This is where the all the stars align and the perfect opportunity arrives to push your agenda and get it through the political process. All of a sudden “the window” opens and you have access to government the likes of which you have never seen before and you must act fast before the window shuts again to your particular cause.

Recently, I have realized I am pushing open that window of opportunity with B. I know I should stop but I am full of questions and like an addict on a high I cannot seem to stop asking. As I explained to B, since he has been so closed off in the past and he is trying so hard to be open; I can’t help but take advantage of the open window as I try to crawl through to his brain. I have to admit he is also using this opportunity to ask his own questions.

We all know that an open window can be a delight with soft breezes clearing out the stale air. But since it is accessible it also allows the rain and snow to soak the floor and possibly wreck the precious things it comes in contact with.  While I am enjoying this chance to peek inside the window I am also discovering that the questions are difficult and I don’t always like the answers I find inside B’s house. His answers sometimes make me uncomfortable. They occasionally make me squirm. Often, they bring tears to my eyes and make me dream of a time when things were sweeter.

The truth is, that the here and now, it is a burdensome season. It is summer, and the earth, like our relationship, feels scorched and dry. I long to turn on the air conditioner for relief but to do so would mean that the window would have to be shut. And like most windows, I am afraid that once shut, that in the future the wood may swell making it difficult if not impossible for it to be opened again.

And so I sit in the heavy still heat of the day, with the window still wide open as I try to relish this time, asking questions of the person within, while hoping the window does not close tight on his soul.

Today It’s Our Turn…319 Days to Fix This

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Today and tomorrow is Mommy and Daddy time. Our’s alone. No kids. No Traffic. No deadlines. No chauffeuring kids from here to there. Just the bliss of a quiet twosome.

After many attempts we finally found a sitter to watch the wee ones, the wild ones, the ones that we love. And we have 24 hours to ourselves in a place where we can run around naked, howl at the moon, and indulge in a little romance. Twenty-four hours to cuddle, spoon and do our taxes (I hope he is only kidding!) Twenty-hour hours with no television, no phones and plenty of places to play hide-and-seek.  One day without children who always knock on the door just when we are getting down to the nitty-gritty.

Somehow, I think these will be the shortest 24 hours known to humankind.

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In the Stillness…315 Days To Fix This

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Do you know that blessed silence just before dawn? Those moments before the first chirp of a bird, or toss of the newspaper the second before it hits the pavement and before the first car on the block roars to life and exits the driveway without the driver looking in the rearview mirror because she is always the first on the road?

It’s that peaceful time, a sleepy lackadaisical moment when everything seems right and nothing could possibly be wrong or go south. It is a time for hope, daydreaming, and a mug of hot coffee laced with sweet cream and steam that floats so high in the air it looks as if it is the tail on the end of a kite sliding towards the moon.

Those are precious moments, silent moments, that are yours alone until…

Your wife opens her mouth.

Blaise Pascal said, “All men’s miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.”

I am sure my husband would agree.

When B first mentioned the M.A.Y.B.E.  D.I.V.O.R.C.E. one of the things that made him unhappy (or so he thought) was that I didn’t get up with him in the morning. I didn’t because I thought that it was his private time. A time to relax before the day began and I didn’t want to intrude. But sure, I could accommodate him and in that vein, I told him to wake me up in the morning so that we could spend some time together.

He hated it.

All of a sudden his quiet was gone, vanished like a cockroach in the light. Skittering away to small places where the quiet became the smallest of silent echoes. And where peace once reined now there were questions.

“When did you first feel like you were not happy?”

“Gracie seems to be developing an attitude. How should we fix it?”

“Do you think that love gets easier or harder the longer you are married?”

“Do my thighs looks fat?”

“The dog needs his anal glands expressed. Can you do that?”

I have to confess that the morning togetherness lasted about a week and then he just stopped waking me up. I’ve asked him about it and he says that he needs his time in the morning and if I want to join him I can knowing that he will keep doing whatever he has been doing for the past 10 years. And it makes me sad. I enjoyed connecting in the morning with him but it appears he can do without connecting with me.

But I have a plan. Tomorrow I will get up with him and just sit quietly. I won’t ask questions, I won’t make comments and I will just sit. Peacefully. Mute. Serenely. And utterly still.  Because sometimes in those stolen peaceful moments just before dawn you can find things by just observing in the stillness. And I am looking…for what’s left of my marriage and myself. Perhaps, I will find it in the quiet right before the muffled sounds that signal a new day and a new way of relating.