Missing Someone

It is a little hollow feeling.
A small ache in the chest.
At its worst,
It is a hard tight knot,
At the remembrance,
Of the time you spent together.
You can think about them,
Their quirks and idiosyncrasies,
Their little mannerisms.
And inwardly smile,
Your heart warms and your ears are soothed,
By the sound of their name spoken aloud.
And the anticipation of reunion,
Is even better than the actual embrace,
Which feels like a homecoming.

The Casual Affair

Why is it,
He cannot allow himself to love her?
To give his whole self,
Openly and honestly.

Yet he longs for her caress,
Her lithe body against his,
And her voice in his ear,
Soft and low.

She will give,
And give, to her very soul,
Yet he does not trust.
He is honest when he tells her,
That he cannot commit,
But she hopes he is lying.

For fear that he will be hurt,
He holds back,
And hurts them both.

She just didn't Love Him

She was surprised,
That she was not heartbroken.
She expected to feel sad,
That they had been torn apart.
She did not even miss him.

There had been good times.
And they had been together for a year.
And it was not that he had betrayed her,
And watched as she was beaten.
She was not bitter or vengeful,
Just confused.
She didn't care to ever see him again.

"Well, you just didn't love him,"  I said.

"I suppose I didn't, "  she replied.

The subtleties of Misogyny

Misogynists are not always full of machismo.
Sometimes they are placid, misguided souls.
Protective,
And maybe self-characterised as,
Gentlemen.
Even chivalrous.
No, they do no real harm,
So they think.

Yet their gender stereotypes are ingrained.
It is them,
To their very souls.

By their ineptitude they court,
A well-meaning,
Feminine guiding hand.
Who soon becomes a dogsbody.
Somehow we are duped,
By their charming hopelessness.

They are aggrieved that their,
Sensitive new age men's club,
Should be perceived as,
Unwelcome to female members.
Yet it is by its old boy, back scratching,
Laissez faire attitude,
Exclusive.

And heaven help,
The immodestly loud and persistent woman,
Who might challenge any one of them.
For she is a harridan.

I know I love you because I miss you.

It is not what you do,
How you look,
What you feel like,
How good a lover you are.
How compatable we are.
Or the interests we share.
It isn't even your conversation.
Or your unique smell.
It is not because my friends say we make a good couple.
Or that I am lucky to be with you.
It is not because we made children together.
Have shared assets.
It is most definitely not to avoid loneliness.
Or that I have made my bed and must now sleep in it.

The fact is that I know I love you.
Because I am happier being with you,
Than being without you.
I think conversations to you when we are apart.
And in those quieter moments,
When I am not distracted by other thoughts or responsibilities.
I miss you.

Don't Settle for less.

Out there in the wide wide world,
Their is someone,
Who lives with the exuberance to match your passion.
That likes to run and climb and hike up mountains.
And lay on quiet hilltops to gaze at the stars.
Who will suddenly see you,
And unbidden bound into your arms.
Will match your caresses with their own.
Whose sweet voice will be like soft silk on your eardrums.
And whose every recess will match your curves,
So that you will fit together like Lego.
They will smell just right,
And will thrust their face deep into your nape,
And take in long draughts,
Of essence of you.
They will be your complement.
And you will regret any time that you missed,
Before you met.

Fidelity

It was not so much that they had an affair.
Or that she had tortured herself for years,
Knowing this longing was festering inside her,
Poisoning the rationality of her shallow mind.
Nor that they came together after so much yearning,
(At least it seems on her part.)
No I can accept that.
Who am I to judge?
It happened to me once.

No what is upsetting is the deceit.
The careful calculated planning.
The slyness.
The half truths told to accomplish the goal.
So much thought,
Yet so little of the consequences.

What did she hope to achieve?
Positioning herself in close proximity.
Pathetic, a helpless damsel in need of rescuing.
Right on his doorstep.
And him alone too,
What hero could resist her tears, her flattery, her love confessions.

Perhaps one who used the frontal lobes of his brain.
But he didn't,
And they 'did it'.
And now for the fallout.

Fidelity is honesty.

 

Strained relations

We go through the motions of civility.
The elephant looks on.
She is wearing a bright pink tutu,
With silver spangles.
She, (the elephant)
Knows it looks ridiculous.
But how else does she get our attention?
Despite all her attempts,
Pulling faces, blowing raspberries and calling our names,
Neither of us will stray from the script.
We smile and make banal small talk.
I feel my stomach squeeze into a tighter ball.
The meeting ends.
I put my hand on the elephant's shoulder reassuringly.
Maybe next time we'll ditch the fancy dress.

Partnership

Despite our differences.
We remain attracted.
And interested.
Interested enough to bother quarrelling.
Not settling for less,
Than the best we can get from each other.
Yet at times communication breaks down.
Each falls into destructive patterns,
That lose sight of the precious gift,
Of  loving somebody.

Faux-pas

Faux-pas,
Hard to spell,
Easy to do.

It denotes innocence of intent,
And motivation misinterpreted.

So what to do when identified?
Ask pardon.
Make amends immediately.

What not to do?
Pass back the blame.
Act oblivious.

Navigating

Life is filled with them,
Relationships through which you must navigate.
Like a ship sailing between treacherous reefs.
The coral laden rocks and sand bars,
Have no means of interpreting the Skipper's intentions,
Or his motivation.
They sit static, looking inocuous.
Yet little eddies may turn into whirlpools.
Storms with strong winds may rage.
Like an ignorant fool you are led to disaster.
It seems on very rare occasion,
You can drop anchor in a quiet harbour.