A small hard knot of anger sits just to the right of my heart and it hurts. I am angry with you for putting me in this position, I am angry at you for raising the issue now, at the most inopportune times when I am in a different place and headed in a different direction, not open to but pulled by you.
I am in doubt, in fear and in confusion since you asked me what you would have to do to make me yours and left 40 roses on my doorstep. What would have happened if I had told you, would you have managed all the herculean tasks I require of my one true love? Or would you have resigned before starting the race?
What would you have done if I had said that I need you to never hide from me or shut me out ever again, you cannot ignore me, that you need to put me above all others, sometimes even your children, that you have to ask me to marry you? That I expect to be treated like a princess, not necessarily in fiscal terms but I should be left in no doubt as to where your sun rises and your moon sets. Never take me for granted, always remind me of how lucky we are to have found one another, give me flowers for no reason, kiss me in the middle of an argument to interrupt my pattern and make me remember why I love you, hold me when I cry and accept that I will cry, trust that in my heart I always have your best interests at my core, trust that there are women in the world who will not hurt you if you are open and continue to be open and that I am one of them. Even when I shout and am hysterical, weather the storm, then when I am calm and sorry, laugh at me so I can see the ridiculousness of my actions but not believe that I am aiming my barbs at you. Let me look after you and love you and hold your heart forever.
What would you have done if I had said all that to you? What would you have done if I had told why it will never happen, why I can't let go of the times before and all the things that have happened already. Why I believe I am simply a distraction to grief, to boredom, to a poisonous love that you don't want to be attracted back to but are oddly drawn. What if I told you that I still have the barb of betrayal when you were riding your high horse all the while fucking a woman who hates me with an unnatural passion so much that she frightens me, that I think less of you for going back and that I at some level I believe you would prefer it to be her. What if I told you I believe that you will tire of this new focus and decide that I am too much like hard work and perhaps you were mistaken all along? What if I told you that I don't trust you, you want so much to be independent that you don't share things with me that I would have enjoyed celebrating with you and that I believe you hid them to keep your options open with me. What would you say?
