Quiet streets, quiet house

It's just so much to overcome...

That each of them would say to this day (had one of them not finally died) that they loved me. And I have to sympathize with their confusion and anger, because I KNOW they think they do . . .or did. That they will lie until they believe themselves. That they can't step one foot towards compromise or discomfort for my benefit. But what's grieving me most today is their being so deluded by arrogance or ego or habit that in their minds I became the perpetrator, the rebel, the disruptor. Because I 'did not accept' what they offered as love.

I do not accept that I am less than. I do not accept that he and his priorities always come first. I do not accept that sharing your penis shows compassion or joy or even affection. I do not accept that this is the best any of them had to offer. They let themselves off far too easily, these so called men. I do not accept it.

And for that, I must be cast out. Tossed aside. Left. Alone. Still.

The overcoming takes knowledge and power, fortitude, courage, patience, stamina, strength, agility, time. I have developed a few of these. I had become dependent on there being someone with whom to share my heavy cargo. That may have been my fatal mistake. And my energies are waning with each blow that comes. What if I can't keep going? What do they win? What will I have lost? A chance to be used again? What if I can't get to the other side? What if I'm afraid that what is there is more of the same? The answer is - I just do, they don't win, I've lost nothing, I will be strong enough, I can, and if there is more of the same for me, perhaps I'll have taught my daughters to declare with every fiber of their beings, "I do not accept this!"

The cargo was always mine and the someone became too tired? overburdened? disinterested? Or was it that they never intended to help? I had delusions of my own: that we wanted that future together. I did not see that only those willing to tiptoe daily past the sleeping giant, dressed in emperors clothes would be granted refuge in the comfort we had depicted.

The overcoming means destroying illusions, letting go of dreams, forgiving oneself and others and accepting what is real.

So. . .

I am more than. You are incapable of recognizing things that threaten your comfort and safety. My priorities, once they're established are equally as valuable as anyone's and require compromise for the rewards to be shared. You should try harder to be the person you want to be because I'm sure if you could see clearly, you would know that this is not it. There is no giant and I will not tiptoe.

The house is quiet because I have no cable. I have to keep my phone calls to a minimum because I could only commit to the smallest plan due to a limited pool of money, an unspecified amount of time to live on it. The streets were quiet last night because I was out on them alone. Alone. Still. It could be worse, I could still be believing in any one of those 'men'.

Tears all day

This could have been what dreams are made of

and you've made it nothing much.



You could have helped me become so much more and lifted us up. Just look what you had to do. Does it make you proud?



You could have listened. Yes, to me.



You could have relented, just a little at times. Not even now, when you see me in tears.



I only asked for what I felt I deserved - to be loved. As I am. and now I'm crying again



You could have been the man who was more to me than pain. Was it too hard? Is it some superhuman task that not one of you is up to? Am I to be understanding?



You're focused on the kids now. Where did I go? Was I ever even there?



You seem to think some injustice was perpetrated on you. What was it? That I asked to have things? That I wanted more than domesticity? That I finally stopped taking less-than as my only option? Did I hurt you somehow? Or is enough of an insult to tell you you can't treat me that way anymore?



We could have shown the world how it's done. We're statistics, instead.



I tried. I loved you until I realized you no longer knew who I was. And now I know you do not care.



And what could have been drifts off into the corner like a dust bunny. I'm sure you'll find someone to clean that up so you can get to the gym with your friends.



I'll be here in the basement. Attempting once and for all to be my own mother, father and best friend.



You go be a millionaire or whatever. I will not demand an apology. I'll cry all day or all year if I have to and I'll get the kids to school on time and I'll stand tall, not be vengeful and wonder for the rest of my life why you couldn't just love me.