How many times have you sat next to me
just to feel the warmth of the one you love?
How many times did you reach for the phone
in the middle of the day
longing to hear my voice?
How many texts to say “I love you,”
or “thinking about you?”
How many times have you smiled at me
from across the room –
just because.
How many times have you held my hand,
kissed my cheek,
pulled me close?
This week?
This month?
This year?
I know.
You don’t know.
Rare were the occasions, if at all.
The truth is
our marriage was over long ago.
I just couldn’t let you go.
The signs were there –
emails and pics in your inbox.
Your public pride
in my knowledge of your language
hardened into stone
beyond the threshold of our home.
Inside our private world,
your eyes never met mine.
My profession,
my passions,
lifted your head
and straightened your spine
out there.
In private, you never knew me.
Other interests filled your mind and time.
I will miss the man I thought you were.
Those moments of kindness,
glimpses of concern,
the way you found pleasure in simple things.
But I don’t know which you is real –
the one who smiles and shares
or the irrational one who
accuses and swears.
I don’t know if you ever loved me,
or if you were just in love with love.
But we both deserve a chance
to know what love feels like.
I will forgive.
I will try to understand
why I wasn’t enough for you.
But I have to let go
because you’ve been gone a long time.
iWrite the Utterly Impossible 