Fragmented

Fragmented. Into several sides I decide to share with selected people. Never the whole me, cos I doubt they could cope. 

Or is it a matter of me needing to be a certain person with certain people so that I can cope? So that I can escape. 

But sometimes the burden of all my personalities becomes too much to bear and I wish I could share a hint of my darkness, confess my brokenness. I'm not sure for what purpose. Am I looking for someone to say, "I understand and it's going to be ok" or do I want to see the shock and horror in their eyes as they realise the extent of my sickness?

Maybe I want someone to see the real me and still love me. I want to know if that's at all possible. 

I've tried being what I thought they wanted and still they can't love me. 

Oh and those enlightened individuals who can appreciate my dark soul often forget that I have a human heart. One that beats and breaks, and unfortunately falls in love. Not their fault however, for I marketed the package as "filthy mind and willing body". No fine print stipulating "seeks loving, long term relationship".

But all this is so far from the point. What was my point? Oh yes:

I'm fighting the urge to blurt out "I'm a dirty, damaged, disgusting, demented and desperately lonely person, tired of pretending to be a socially acceptable model of myself". 

Some days I fear that this confession is going to burst out of me. 

Other days I fear that this fact, if not confessed, is going to kill me. 

Feeling ...

When all my fantasies coming crashing down
And insecurities wash me to the ground
Can't see through my tears
Cant find a way through my fears
               Hope you never know ...
The kind of pain I'm feeling
The way my world is reeling
I wish it wasn't so ...
Have to let go. 

I feel I'm drowning its so hard to breath
It's crazy and I can't believe
The way you have me twisted
How could I have missed it
               How could I not know
What you were really feeling
While you had be kneeling. 
I wish it wasn't true
I wish I didn't love you. 

But it's too late and I've been such a fool
Fell inlove it was against the rule
Cant stop my heart from breaking
Its clear that you were faking
               And now you know
How stupid I am feeling
When will my heart start healing?
I love you so. 
Please let me go. 

Bad mommy

Today I fed my kids breakfast, set out their cloths and took them with me to the shops. I bought them lunch from one of their favourite spots because we lost track of time and I hadn't cooked lunch yet.  

When I realised the time I rushed home to cook. I had made plans with a friend, to go for coffee. Just us girls, without kids. This meant that my husband would be looking after the kids for the afternoon.  The idea of leaving them with their father made me feel uneasy and guilty. 

I very rarely go out without my kids.

I got home around 8pm and they were eating toasted cheese sandwiches

He had fed them. 
He hadn't bathed them. 

Tomorrow is school. 
My kids went to bed and will have to go to school tomorrow without bathing.

All because I was a bad mommy who just needed a few hours off. 

Toady is one of those empty days when the loneliness is almost unbearable. I thought I had come to terms with it, gotten used to it. But for the briefest time I had distraction.  I allowed a wonderful man to reawaken sleeping yearnings. To revive fantasies. I got to live happily, though not ever after. 

Sitting in the park willing the breeze to blow away the pain. Praying it blows away the passion.

I try hard to narrow my focus once again and make my children my whole world. Their happiness is my happiness. And I need nothing else. 

Few times this week I tried reaching out to him, their father. Fruitless. I tried hugging him yesterday. An occurance so out of the ordinary that the children found it awkward. At least he and I laughed about their reactions. He used the laughter to remove himself from my embrace. 

And the wonderful man I mentioned, if he reads this I hope he understands that I'm not sad or angry. I'm honestly thrilled to have him in my life. I wish he  knew just how wonderful he is. Friend for the next 40 years? 

His demons are delightful and it's been a pleasure playing with them. 

Sitting in the breeze did help. Helped me realise that he didn't break my heart. He just reminded me what it should be used for. 

Thanks Love....

Delicious Monster

I adore you,

You delicious monster. 

Every beastly bit of you. 

Your sickness matches mine,

Sin for sin. 

And I ache to feel 

Your claws on my skin. 

Why deny your nature?

There is no need. 

Gladly I lay down

For you to feed.

Come closer love, 

Taste my lips. 

I love the way you grab my hips. 

Don't be gentle, I can take it.

For once I don't have to fake it.

We're two of a kind,

My lover, my friend. 

With you I don't have to pretend.

I'm all yours love,

Can't you see.

You're a monster, just like me.

When the penny drops

I always thought being competitive was a good thing, within reason. Being a little ambitious, a bit of a go-getter. All good, right?

Over the years I've realized that husband dearest was a bit too competitive, felt challenge by everyone, felt the need to compete in everything. Told him on more than one occasion that he didn’t have to compete with me. But he needed to prove superiority in anything we attempted. Kind of ruined my buzz …

Then after Sunday brunch, when chatting with some cousins (his cousins) I realized that he’s ALWAYS been that way. I somehow never thought about his competitive nature pre our marriage.

Several little pennies dropped as I recalled how he stated that he would be married before another cousin, even though that cousin had just gotten engaged and set a wedding date for the following year. I did find it a bit funny at the time, cos we weren’t officially dating – we were on a break and he wasn’t seeing anyone else to my knowledge.

The brunch cousins weren’t aware of the comment he made back then, but explained that amongst themselves they did discuss it and knew that he would marry first, because he always made a point of being first and being best.

Soooo, I’m thinking eleven years later that … for him getting married wasn’t so much about being in a hurry to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved. He was in a race to wed, against his cousin.

 

I wonder if it was me he really wanted or was I just in the right place, at the right time, to help him make his deadline?

LOL, does that make me the Ultimate Trophy Wife? Hahahaha, or am I the boobie prize?