more, than ‘us’.
is it heartbreak, if i’m the one that left? i split ‘us’.
nothing made me question, “what’s love?” more than what we became.
what’s good versus what’s safe? what’s passion versus what’s stable? what’s living versus what’s being alive? what’s love? what’s love versus… love? what’s love? i used to think, i knew.
nothing made me question, “what’s love?”, more than her.
nights when her lips brushed the back of my neck. i could feel her safe in my sleep. her hands anchor my waist. pull me into her hips.
if we arise before the sun, there are no words. this could almost be a sweet dream of how my underwear slides past my knees. of how her shirt disintegrates into her skin. soured breath and clammy flesh tangled in too many sheets. legs open, we search for kisses, blooming into edible roots that we won’t taste through the day. we hold fast until our alarms independently beeps.
nothing made me question “what’s love?”, more than she.
is this for me? is this for her? is this for us? what does “us”, mean? i don’t know how to blend. losing my voice the whole way. i stop loving me. i give up my goals. sacrifice my plans. create new dreams that aligns.
meals made. laundry done. if she needs a break, the teenager and i find a pizza joint, the ice cream shop, or a field in which to play soccer. if she needs a break, the toddler and i are permanent fixtures at the neighborhood park and nearby farmer’s market looking for farmers that decided it was too hot to come out. his words. if she needs a break, i figure out how to provide space. i disappear. preparing for tomorrow, today. trying to find a way to lighten the weight. of us. trying to find a way to make us, less us.
nothing made me question, “what’s love?,” more than ‘us’.
the small hand on my back, stops touching me. my skin grows cold. the kisses in the middle of the day, evaporates. we used to sneak away on lunch breaks, fit with giggles and deceit. we stop holding hands. the glance across the room, we refuse to see. keep our smiles to ourselves. we morph into duties and responsibility. days will pass, we won’t speak. we lose our way, in the chasing of dreams.
nothing made me question, “what’s love?”, more than the us that we no longer hold.
one day, the silence too thick to tip toe around, we separate.
feeling alone with my best friend. nude in a room, no excitement, no stimulation. intentional not noticing. sparks becomes smoke that chokes us. the smiles are forced. sleeping back to back. the sofa adjusts to our opposing paths. the bed left cold, becomes familiar. we get used to pretending, that this is normal. latching on to time to fix it, without fixing it. losing happiness along the way. the silence is so thick. to talk, our voices buried in wants and needs that never gets said. that never receives. empty ‘us’ into the kids, instead. we can’t question whether ‘us’, was a mistake. we love for the kids sake.
still wanting the wanting. wanting to be wanted. wanting to want. snatch back tears and swallow them down with the bile of erased dates we’ll never participate in, together. still wanting the wanting. wanting to be, myself. yet, i’m shrinking myself. burying those wants in blueberry plants and mint vines that the squirrels keep unearthing. acts of love, should be enough. the saying, the knowing, it should be enough. nothing to prove. just the wanting, that doesn’t want you back. the wanting, that doesn’t include you in her dream.
was it love, if i had to leave it? did it love me? did it love, loving me? questions taste like depression dipped in fecal infested waters. i could almost not notice that i’m living off of contaminated lies. to-do list and post it notes of what i am and what to do. missing out on the who. wanting to be wanted. held in higher regards. touched when no one sees. a voice that is supported. communication is a two way street. wanting the wanting that didn’t hold it’s weight. the vows stalked out the door. beautiful disasters lay at the heel of our feet.
nothing made me question “what’s love?”, more than the ‘us’, that no longer exists.
one day, the silence so thick, instead of choking me, it holds me.
“nothing to prove when you, love you more, than this.”