Why Loving You is Killing Me

We are tightly wound together

Bound forever by the heart.

You’ve forgotten

How much you need me

And don’t realize

How much I have left to teach you.

You want to run,

But haven’t even learned

How to roll over onto your tummy yet.

You aren’t strong enough

To hold your up.

But you think you’ve seen it all.

You don’t understand

The process of letting go.

You still want to run beyond the gate,

While still clinging to the edge of my apron.

You think the world

Is a glistening marble.

Even thought I’ve tried to tell you

It’s nothing more than jagged rocks

And rough waters.

You want to jump into the deep end of the pool

But think you’re drowning,

When standing in ankle deep water.

You’re a baby in an adult’s body

Demanding that I let you be you,

While you are led astray

By every gentle breeze,

Or seduced by every turn of phrase.

You don’t believe that I once stood

Where you are standing now,

Ready to take on the world

And not even knowing how to spell the word.

But this is life.

Neither one of us knows how live

Something we’ve never done before.

We muddle  through it the best way we know how.

But maybe we can do it without

Ripping each other’s heart out,

If we remember that

We are tightly wound together,

And connected by the heart.

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Love and Letting Go

I’m trying to pick up where I left off with the A to Z Challenge, but a few of my short stories are taking on a life of their own, which is good and bad. I’m trying to post daily not weekly! 😀  So, below you will find my very touching “L day” submission. Grab some Kleenex. Happy reading! ❤

 

Love Letter
Love Letter

 

April 15, 2014

Dear John,

It’s been a while since we’ve been able to spend any quality time together, our lives being so busy and all. You have classes to teach and children to manage on your own, while taking care of your parents. I have my children and their after school activities, my ailing parents and my own health challenges to worry about.  We both put so much time into our respective households that there isn’t much room left for us. You would think that as single parents we’d find a way to balance each other out, support each other.  Other couples do it all the time, but they aren’t us. Our circumstances are unique and extremely challenging.

I’m glad you responded to my email today and filled me in on what’s going on with you. I wish we could have had the discussion face to face or by phone. I needed to hear your voice, but I guess our conflicting schedules make things difficult to coordinate.

There never is a really good time or a good way to end a relationship, especially when two people genuinely love each other. I know you love me, and I love you, but I have to agree with you, we have too much on our plates to have a functional, healthy relationship. There aren’t enough hours in the day to meet the needs of our respective families and have something left to offer each other.

It breaks my heart that we had to end things. I’m trying not to cry. I’m trying to be ok with it, but it still hurts so much.  Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for a person is let them go. I consider this breakup a loving gesture.

I hope the road forward for you smooths out and the drama dies down. You deserve peace and happiness.

I will always love you. Always,

Jennifer

Image credit: Photo5_Red_Ribbon by Julie Edgley

Jericho

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Jericho laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound.  His laughter dripped with pain and anger.

“He needs me? That’s not what he said when he threw me out!”

I really didn’t feel like participating in his bout of emotional constipation.  His bitterness was not my problem.

“Listen, Rico, you have to let that go.  He did what he did for your benefit. You probably wouldn’t have all of this if…”

“Cressida, don’t,” his said in a warning tone.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Rico! Own your mess! You made the choices that got your tail tossed out.”

“Own my mess? Own my mess? He did the same things I did, and worse, and tells those stories with great pride! He just didn’t get caught! He didn’t have to worry about his life being on public display because of who his daddy was. He wears his sins like a badge of honor, but judged me publicly for every one of mine. Everything I have, I worked for! He gave me nothing! I owe him nothing! He gets no credit for what I’ve accomplished.”

“If he didn’t throw you out of the house, you never would have grown up! You would have continued to do the same dumb stuff! You have what you have because he loved you enough to say ‘no’ to your foolishness!”

“Don’t give me that after-school-special crap! I was never good enough for him. He hated me because I reminded him of my real dad. He assumed I’d turn out just like him, and treated me like I was a damn criminal from day one!  He was more concerned about his reputation in the pulpit and in office than he was about me.  He had an opportunity to have me in his life.  He made a choice. He chose public opinion over family.  Go tell him to own that!”

There was fire in Jericho’s eyes. I knew my brother well enough to know that he wasn’t moving.  He was not going to leave his office to say his final goodbyes to his step-father, the only father we ever knew. Even though I knew my brother wasn’t attacking me personally, it still felt like he might be angry with me for being the messenger.

“Jericho, he did the best he knew how to do raising us. He wants to see you before he breathes his last and try to set things right between you two. Go hear him out, and if you still feel the same way you do now, after talking to him, then ok. You were right and he was wrong. But go. See him. Do it for me?”

“Let him die without me,” Jericho said, flatly as he glared at me.

“Fine. I tried. I hope you don’t regret this decision. Our real dad is long gone. This man raised us. He’s dying and he’s waiting for you. He’s holding on for you. He’s always held on for you, but you are too blinded by anger and hurt to realize it.”

Dad cried as he took his last breath that night. Jericho never came.

Copyright 2013 Nike Binger Marshall