A real dilemma April 4, 2013

  

Becoming clear from reading her recent poetry is how unfair it is to have a married man in love with her, and worse, her with him.

She wants him to be with her when she needs him most, and he rarely is.

He might take her for a weekend romp to places like Ocean Grove where they might share a bed in the luxury of inns like the Majestic, when it comes to the miserable and lonely mid-week nights when she needs his arms around her, he always has to leave in order to get back to his wife and kids, leaving her to endure the long, lonely hours when the ghosts haunt her at night all by herself.

What she wants is to sit with him on the coach, watching her favorite TV show together, or listening to her favorite music, his arms around her shoulders, her head leaning on his.

She doesn’t even need the inevitable transition from living room to bedroom. In fact, she might even dread it since this signals the approach of the time when he will have to get up, get dressed and get out.

She might not need to have him spend every night with her, or every waking moment wanting to make her happy, but she need it on some nights, and even needs to be able to pick up the phone when is not with her when desperation hits her at some ungodly hour, knowing however, she can’t fearing if she did his wife’s voice would come on the phone instead of his.

On the other hand, could she really standing someone always in her life, invading her personal space, there always when at times she needs to be alone? Does she really want a fixture she would have to turn on and off like a table lamp in order to preserve space for herself?

She also has ambitions, and such a fixture might get in the way, and try to prevent her from doing what she needs to do.

Can she find a man who would step aside at such times? Few men are so understanding.

Even open relationships tend to be endowed with their fair share of drama.

A married man has to go home, and even if he leaves her in a wake of loneliness, she retains her own life.

I think this I something she tried to convey in the poem where she rejected that monumental moment and caused that relationship to fall in on itself. She needed to defend that previous “I” against the ugly intrusion of “we.”

How she resolves this in the future is beyond me to say, since I get fewer and fewer glimpses into what she goes through, and lately, almost exclusively through her poems.

I dread the time when she will cease posting poem, closing that last window into her soul.

 

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