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boat drifting

Adrift on a sea of possibility

Together always you and me

Tacking into the winds up ahead

A light in our heart no need for dread

An unchartered course we have chosen

Full of unfettered heartfelt emotion

Together we stand the test of time

Without reason nor rhyme

Adrift on a sea of possibility

Together always you and me







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She’d never felt more alone.  A solitary aloneness in a relationship where love and friendship should flourish. Yet she felt as parched baked and thirsty as if she were sitting alone in the midst of the Sahara Desert.

“What went wrong?”

“Nothing, we’re perfect as we are.”

“That’s what you think?”

“Yeah, I don’t see anything wrong with our relationship.”

“I’ve already explained my feelings on the matter and you simply don’t get it.”

“I don’t, no.  I provide, work hard, you want for nothing, what more could I give you?”

“How about love, affection, a meaningful hug, great sex?”

“What you’re saying the sex isn’t good?”

“I’m saying you don’t have any emotions about anything, not what’s happening around you, your life, our marriage, you don’t even have an opinion on what you want to eat.  Passable is enough for you.  It’s not enough for me.”

“Then I’d say you have a problem, not me.  I can’t believe we’re having this conversation period.”  Paul shook his head and walked away.  “Women, who could understand them?”  he whispered quietly.

Adrian loved that he provided for her, he was right in that she wanted for nothing.  Still, they had long since stopped enjoying anything in common.  Their life had become drab, dull, boring.  He gave nothing, expected nothing – he simply existed.  All the promises he’d made about what their life together would be like had long since vanished.

She wandered aimlessly like

A shriveled presence so ghostlike

Existing day to day not really there

Felt not seen unheard but aware

There had to be more than an existence now arid

No moisture of romance, presence unheralded

Wandering aimlessly dreams at an end

Standing on a bookshelf, an empty bookend

Nothing in common, not a spark of need

No conversation or interaction to proceed

Emotions like anger, laughter, love, affection

All so empty, surrounded by feelings of dejection

How could he not understand a woman needed more

Than the daily drivel and slamming of a screen door

Vibrance, lushness, thrills and unexpected surprises

A walk in the park, holding hands, sparks tantalizes

The human soul and love from deep within

Keeping you warm, she desired this more than anything









We are all guilty of putting on a face for the world, even with family and friends and those closest to us, unwilling to admit what lies beneath.  It could be anger, angst, frustration, worry or concern.  Do we do it, suffer in silence, due to an overriding concern for those we love, a protective mechanism of sorts? Or because we feel it’s unacceptable to share our pain with others?

Possibly it is happiness, excitement and delight, but we hide it, waiting for an appropriate moment to share, spill the beans, explain, our joy barely contained.

It’s painful watching the struggles of family and friends.  You know them well, and on the surface you note a pleasant smile and calm relaxed demeanor.  Then you watch the cracks begin to form the tells begin to show; maybe it’s pacing, body movements like scrubbing their face, their hair or veiled anger in response to a question or something said innocently but a reaction ensued we weren’t expecting and which wasn’t warranted.

Those calm serene waters finally erupt broiling from beneath in an explosion of emotion.

Some use humour to defuse distract nullify that which we are unable to face either alone or with others.

Whatever the reason, should we not take the time to look beneath the surface?  See the truth and honesty and pain that may be hiding there?

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