I look over at my husband; he is a man of fifty as he sleeps on nights like this night when I feel lost or as if I have never been . . . I wonder if he has ever loved me or I him. I go over the beginning when I was young and people used words like beautiful to describe me. I was awkward at best but the world saw something else. I remember our first night together. I remember waking up in his bed in his house. I felt so grown . . . lying and tracing his slight wrinkles by his eyes and thinking this is a real man. I am no longer for the boys but the men . . . we spent a summer filled with sailing and the ocean. Diners out with drinks all so new to me he was easy and comfortable to be with . . . at the end of the summer he ask me to live with him.
He felt we had come along way in a short time and did not want to see me leave. I was soon to go off to coast guard; I had said no. My list of boys and men had tallied three at this point all of which either asked to marry me or live with them. I had said yes to the boy in the middle of my three and had my first broken heart. Rick was the third and the one I married . . . the one I told at the start I would not fall in love. He was to be my fling the one who made me forget the boy in the middle . . . I of course got pregnant. We married in September . . . over time I fell in love with him by the fifth anniversary I realized that our marriage was going to be one of his convenience.
He loved the children and the sense of home we had made together but not me . . . he was a happy man though. It wasn’t built into him to need a deep sense of connection to another person . . . he had his family of origins they where very close he spoke to them first on all matters grown up I was left to tend the children and keep home which at the time was all I wanted to do.
I loved being a mom . . . my babies and there world where my only concern. They are almost grown now and some days I feel a lose so deep . . . I miss the days of naps together and making play doh and stories ah the list could go on and on lastly I find myself remembering those days and it leaves me with the oddest feelings of things lost and found . . .
It is now time for me to begin again in some ways yes there is still the home and the husband to tend but I am left with a feeling of carelessness toward them. I have settled in many ways into a life at a snails pace. My husband still relays heavily on his family for his emotional needs. I no longer fight against it. I feel invisible . . . . and alone . . . My heart aches to be loved and to feel alive again my mind no longer can focuses on the garden or the grown children’s dietary needs.
I feel adrift waiting bobbing in the ocean . . . this loneliness has laid in me now for two winters. It grows at a quick rate like a cancer . . . fear has moved in where love used to be . . . I fight hard not to become bitter and sad but as of late it feels like I am syspus rolling the rock up the hill only to see it roll back down the hill at dusk. I cry allot and have days where I know I am just floating on the fog of my mind . . . Every way out seems as if it will darken everyone else life . . . I am caught in a cage of my own making with no key . . . the boy in the middle . . . yes he is back after twenty-four years . . . when I saw him I new . . . . as did he. That we where meant to be.
