She Watches

I am adrift in the ocean filled with the tears of my mourning, my blindness to the sins of the one who shattered my being into a billion droplets rolling over me, pulling me deeper into the dark abyss of my shadows, a welcoming darkening from the harsh reality of what I once depended my existence upon.

When the waves throw me to the surface, as they often do, I glimpse a lighthouse in the distance and hold my breath and turn away instead of making a go for it, I allow the waves to throw me roughly here and there, to batter the already battered and torn open wounds of my body, to tear even deeper the wounds caused by the stranger who wears my husbands face.

I welcome the pain. I have come to believe my unseeing of what I allowed for so long, how I conceded myself to be so far less so that he could be so much more, tells me I am deserving of what He has done.

I trusted him with every fiber of my being. I loved him with everything I had. In the end, it was not enough.

I am not enough.

I welcome the storming regret of my ocean. I welcome the emotional drowning. I never want to wake. The pain is to great, the betrayal is to much to bear.

I have always prided myself on being the strong one, the responsibility of our livelihood fell to me, and I embraced it, sure this would show how much I appreciate his sacrifices to be with me, to raise a family with me, because I am nothing special, I must make myself indispensable so he will love me. I do not love myself, I have no idea how. I was never taught that to love is to give and receive.

I was taught the more they take, the more you give. When you are a dried up husk, a shell, when there is absolutely nothing left for you to give, beg, borrow or steal

He will have already found another to replace you.

The Ocean I find myself drowning in is one of my own making. I make myself go down once more deep in the abyss. I’m comfortable there. I can’t feel the bloodied pieces of my heart strings quite so harshly there.

I wake to find myself at the base of the lighthouse. I try to swim fast away, for I know who is beckoning from the window. Who is calling me to the light. Who has been calling me for longer than I allow myself to remember.

I have ignored her for so long she no longer has a name. Her face is obscured. Her body is ghostlike, it flickers with the gliding light on the rough waters, as I heave back and forth on the waves.

It is Time to rise

The fuck it is, I reply.

I see you, I say. You are always at the back of my mind. Pushing. You want me to become someone I’m incapable of being. Always trying to move me forward to love myself, to take off the so-called rose colored glasses imbedded on my skin, to stop accepting crumbs from a man who has not cherished me as I am. Who doesn’t want to love himself so He took the easy way out. I know what you will say “He didn’t choose you. So Stop choosing him”.

You ask me to Let him Choose the one that cannot compare, the pick me one, the easy way out. This affair he pursues is nothing more than something to fill his own emptiness, a woman that, sadly, will never help him be the man he wants to be, for that is up to him, and you were that woman for him and yet, for so long, he never wanted that from you. He doesn’t know how to Love a giver like you, and you took that inside yourself and made it your prison.

She is,and has positioned herself to be, the one for him to pass the time, the one he shall use to reclaim a passage of his life he has convinced himself he deserves; he has to; otherwise the cost is too great. It is his downfall, you will stay for awhile in these waters, but not for long.

You are so much more than you allow yourself to see. He knows that. It’s only a matter of time before you see the others who already want to Love you. Men who will cherish the very ground you walk upon. Who will dry the ocean of tears from your eyes, who will lovingly heal with their caress your body and soul-

He also knows it won’t be long before you know that also, and act on it.

“I don’t know how”.

Meet me at the foot of the stairs of this light house. Come up from the depths of despair of these rough waters. It’s been long enough.

I hear every word in my mind, I’ve heard them before for years, but this time, this time

I listen.

I swim to the shore and heave myself up to the base of the stairs, tattered and bruised as I am. Shaken, Naked in every way possible, certain that each step will take me farther and farther from the one whom I’ve loved for so long I see nothing else but him in my past or future….

Yet Each step I take, The drops of bloodied waters That fall from the gaping wounds of my heart hit the ground and are swept back as If I am magic itself as I move forward, the betrayal of lies and deception I have been cloaked in running down with them.

I cannot fathom living without this man by my side. I have borne his children, supported him through the worst times of his life,of mine, stood by his side as we weathered so many twists, how can he look at me and not see anything but Love? How does he tell another he Loves her? How can he betray me so deeply? Wound me to the core of my being?

Who is this man?

Who the fuck am I? Where have I gone to become this shell of a woman who accepts such disrespect pretending it is Love? Who accepts such neglect and begs for more? Who willingly sits at the table while lies are feed that only benefit the other?

My pace quickens up the long passageway as I ponder these thoughts, following the light steps she creates as she hovers a step or two above. “Come, it is your time”, she says. “you see, you finally shall meet your truth, you finally shall heal, shall Love, never again will the sting of the multitude of blind regret and the intense longing of ignoring your Goddess Given Intuition darken your soul, You know this, your fear has lead to the betrayal of self

Now the betrayal of love itself-come, follow.

we reach the top. As I imagined, a small room, round, dark, only the light of the moon and her own reflection brighten the shadows on the round walls. The room is empty but a small mirror appears before me.

Of course it does.

It was always me.

I am both my savior and my betrayer.

I have lived the life of others for so long, accepted my role for so long, denied my power for so long, I no nothing of who I can be.

Who I long to be. Who I already am.

Who he has rejected.

I fall to my knees.

I weep. For hours. For days. For years. For all the pieces of myself I must let go in the waters of my own self destruction. For all I’ve allowed myself to know for too long, and Ignore. For I have allowed myself to believe it is far easier to be less than to live to your potential. I have allowed myself to be taken for granted, I have taken myself for granted. I have neglected myself. In doing so, I have also neglected him. Us. My marriage. What I thought I had cherished most I treated like I was treating myself. What a bitter pill to swallow.

Yet I didn’t find another to pretend to Love. I will never believe what he felt was anything other than a severe infatuation brought on by neglects and his own justifications. I can’t. I won’t. I can’t because if I do, my decision must be to go and I can’t make that decision.

“Stop.” I hear. This is your time. You have spent far to long focused on all but who is the innocent

Rise. Rise. Rise. Rise and know the path before you will be the most beautiful and most arduous of your life.

You will stay with him. But the you that stays is not the you that has been drowning in these waters for the past years.

Slowly you will emerge. He will either rise to meet you as your consort or he will not. This is not your concern. You will not be deterred from this path of accepting your birthright of power.

There is no turning back now.

Your story starts now.

So mote it be.