Had a sporadic dream last night. I heard his car. I heard him come inside the apartment. Clean shaven. Red and black shirt. Khakis. He came into the bedroom and grabbed a handful of his clothes. Held it close. I said hi sleepily as I struggled to see what he was doing. I was scared. I felt as though a huge weight was upon my chest keeping me from speaking. Moving. I was choked up as I knew I wanted to protest his actions.
But he said very little. Yet a determined look lay on his face. Blue eyes wide and bluer than usual.
I couldn't stop him.
And as I sit here with my daughter, I'm reminded of how he still holds me. How he listened to my heartbeat as he laid his head on my chest. But he thought it was something sexual rather than just having him close to me.
The vision of Him holding my hand with his while using the other to push me away. How it hurt to say either pull me close and embrace me always or let me go.
I am less depressed yet sad at his distance. His absence. I am hopeful, deeply so. I am angry as his little secrets.
I am lonely because I spent years being alone. I need someone to share all this love. I need someone to support me. Hold me. Love me. Save me.
But ...it's not enough if it's not him.
Sent from my iPhone
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