And suddenly, I became interesting.

All I had to do was overthink, be reassured by your words of affirmation, lose my mind behind closed doors, smile to the public, invest myself back into therapy, and permit myself to grow attached. I had to convince my heart that you were safe- after all, you told me so. You took both of my hands and looked me in the eye and assured me over and over that it was all okay. There was nothing in this world that we couldn’t work through.

I will not let you down.

I knew that if I were to see the day it would end, it would fall on me. So I gave myself permission to imagine a life with you in it. Preparing my sails for a wind that you made me feel ready for, for the first time in my life. Experiencing now what I thought I never would- not missing my single days for a single day. Life was exciting now. No matter what waves came over me, you were staying on that boat for better or for worse.

And then you jumped ship.

And once again I was overthinking, being reassured, losing my mind behind closed doors, smiling to the public, investing in therapy, and permitting myself to grow attached- back to myself. It’s like I’ve been here before but now, I hate it. It isn’t the same by myself. I hate that you showed me what goodness looked like. I hate that you gave me hope. I hate that you created a sense of safety that was completely unnerving for me- a sense of safety that made my heart swell with a sweet mix of anxiety and joy. And then decided that none of this goodness was worth it. Why?

Because I, no- you. You couldn’t understand love without lust.

I never kept this a secret from you. You pursued me when I tried to run. There was nothing in this world we couldn’t work through. You were right. There was nothing in this world that we couldn’t work through. But there were things that you couldn’t work through. That was the secret you kept from me and yourself. Instead, I was held in a permanent audition for the role of your wife in the fantasy film you scripted in your head since you met me. The one that you convinced yourself would become a documentary. The one that told the story of your parents- the remake. The one where our engagement would be born of a love for the skies, carried by physical intimacy, and bonded by an infatuation for the traditions, personalities, and lifestyle of the high school sweethearts that bore your existence. The one where our neighbors mirrored those living across from you 20 years ago. The one where I birthed you and your sister. The one where my children held your interests and possessed your genes. The one where our marriage was lead by your thoughts, your perceptions, your opinions, your confidence.

The one where I faded into the background.

Meanwhile, I was front and center of everyone else’s interest. I was being sought out to relay how you were doing, how we were doing, how I was doing. I was finally on my way to living up to the idol that the church placed on marriage. The independent, single, boss woman hadn’t been cutting it and to their satisfaction, I cut myself off from it because I had finally found a man who was worth abandoning her for. It was the unspoken goal of life according to them, and I wanted nothing more than to satisfy them.

I suppose we were both out to satisfy ourselves.

Except in the end of this timeline, neither of us won. But only one of us lost. I couldn’t have lost a man there never was. You lost a woman. A woman that would have loved you far beyond the bounds of the physical or the fantasies in your mind. In the end, we were both dreaming. All I walked away with was the taste of the medicine I tried to give you, that you refused you needed. It’s almost like you knew that my heart would be sick.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”

~ Proverbs 13:12