This is how it feels.

I lay in bed at night, hoping that you will feel the aching pain drifting off of my body and wrap me in your arms. No words…just you and me, breathing as one. Me, crying in your arms, rather than alone on my pillow.

You don’t come.

Loneliness. Loneliness is what I feel, even when we are together. We are like two ships, passing in the night. Co-sleeping, co-parenting, co-living. But never connecting.

Oh, it is that connection that I am aching for!

We need laughter and fun. Love and intimacy. Touch and desire. Tears and a hug.

Where is it?

My soul is begging to be filled. I reach out, hoping…and I come back empty–disappointed and resentful.

I have begged. Pleaded. Cried. Demanded.

I have stayed silent.

I am suffering.

There are days I see the end. Days I just want out. Days where I imagine a world where someone–somewhere–might love me the way I need it.

There are days where I’m still in it. Days where I could never hurt you by leaving, only because I am unhappy. Days where I look at our two kids and think that I can just live this way, for their sake. Days where I think that my needs are small compared to the needs of the three other people I need to take care of.

And then, there are days like today. Days where I only hurt and feel the pain of something broken–something that may or may NOT be fixed. There is a “What if?” and there is a “What if not?” A great unknown…with my heart stuck in the chasm.

Sometimes, I need someone to take care of me. To hold me, tell me I am going to be okay, and let me fall apart. But I can’t do that when I need to make sure that you are okay… And you are never okay. 

I want you to be able to love me the way I need to be loved. I want it to be you. But I am worried that you can’t…or you won’t…or that I am so raw and resentful that it is too late.

This.

This is how it feels.