I'm so tired. Tired of hearing, tired of seeing, tired of being. Tired,
tired, tired. Once, I was tired of watching you watching her loving him,
dreaming an impossible dream. "Can't you see that she never will?" I wanted
to ask. "Can't you see she's happiest with him?"
I know you could, now. You saw as well as I. I know you saw her with him and wished it could be you. I know you spent every moment of your life wishing she would look at you that way. I know your heart broke every time she came to you gleefully, telling you exactly what he had said or done. I have seen you sometimes when you thought you couldn't possibly live any longer.
I saw you live through it. Sometimes I wonder how you did it, how you managed to shower her with affection and guidance and love when she loved him. I wondered even more why you did it. Why help her be with him and stay with him when you want her to be with you? I see now you did it for her. You did everything for her. She was your life, your breath. You put up with everything so she wouldn't have to deal with anything; you were always sad inside so she could be happy. You carried a broken heart so hers could be whole.
It wouldn't have been whole without you. She needed you. Deep down she loved you most, but she didn't know that. Perhaps you did. Perhaps that was why you looked so very old when I gazed into your eyes that night. Or maybe you would have looked like that anyway. Your grief was so great I thought you would shatter. You made it; you survived, but only in body. I look at you and you are drooping, you are dead. You live now for...what?
Why do you hurt yourself so? You saw him cry for her, saw him hold his children close, and you did not shed a tear. Your face flashed a bottomless pain, but you went to him with dry eyes. You always have to be the strong one. You always have to comfort them when they cry. When do you get to cry? When is it your turn to feel?
You cannot live for her forever. You cannot help the rest in their grief til the end of time. They will move on, step by step, and learn to live without her. You cannot. Every breath you take without her is jagged ice. Every time you blink your eyes, take a step, mouth a single word it hurts you because she is not there for you to do it for.
I do not have a solution for you. Perhaps there is none. She cannot come back to you now, and if she did, she would only return to him. There is no easy thing to do. So you must do the hard thing, or nothing at all. You must find someone else to love.
I have had to do the same thing. I loved and I lost, over and over, and the pain was enough even without immense sacrifices that you would have made. You gave yourself fully to her, but maybe it is time to call a little of you back. Maybe you can love someone else, just a little.
Some day, you just might heal. Until then, you are welcome to lie in my arms the way you do now. You are tired of life without her. You are tired of everything. I know you are. You have been tired for so long. I am tired too. We are both tired, so tired, tired of hearing. Tired of seeing. Tired of being. For now, we can just sleep here together, warm and safe in each other's arms, cheeks still tear-stained. I will be here for you, to gently wake you up each morning and cry with you to sleep each night. I will stay here and wait for you and feel for you, so that just once you can have your turn to live.
I know you could, now. You saw as well as I. I know you saw her with him and wished it could be you. I know you spent every moment of your life wishing she would look at you that way. I know your heart broke every time she came to you gleefully, telling you exactly what he had said or done. I have seen you sometimes when you thought you couldn't possibly live any longer.
I saw you live through it. Sometimes I wonder how you did it, how you managed to shower her with affection and guidance and love when she loved him. I wondered even more why you did it. Why help her be with him and stay with him when you want her to be with you? I see now you did it for her. You did everything for her. She was your life, your breath. You put up with everything so she wouldn't have to deal with anything; you were always sad inside so she could be happy. You carried a broken heart so hers could be whole.
It wouldn't have been whole without you. She needed you. Deep down she loved you most, but she didn't know that. Perhaps you did. Perhaps that was why you looked so very old when I gazed into your eyes that night. Or maybe you would have looked like that anyway. Your grief was so great I thought you would shatter. You made it; you survived, but only in body. I look at you and you are drooping, you are dead. You live now for...what?
Why do you hurt yourself so? You saw him cry for her, saw him hold his children close, and you did not shed a tear. Your face flashed a bottomless pain, but you went to him with dry eyes. You always have to be the strong one. You always have to comfort them when they cry. When do you get to cry? When is it your turn to feel?
You cannot live for her forever. You cannot help the rest in their grief til the end of time. They will move on, step by step, and learn to live without her. You cannot. Every breath you take without her is jagged ice. Every time you blink your eyes, take a step, mouth a single word it hurts you because she is not there for you to do it for.
I do not have a solution for you. Perhaps there is none. She cannot come back to you now, and if she did, she would only return to him. There is no easy thing to do. So you must do the hard thing, or nothing at all. You must find someone else to love.
I have had to do the same thing. I loved and I lost, over and over, and the pain was enough even without immense sacrifices that you would have made. You gave yourself fully to her, but maybe it is time to call a little of you back. Maybe you can love someone else, just a little.
Some day, you just might heal. Until then, you are welcome to lie in my arms the way you do now. You are tired of life without her. You are tired of everything. I know you are. You have been tired for so long. I am tired too. We are both tired, so tired, tired of hearing. Tired of seeing. Tired of being. For now, we can just sleep here together, warm and safe in each other's arms, cheeks still tear-stained. I will be here for you, to gently wake you up each morning and cry with you to sleep each night. I will stay here and wait for you and feel for you, so that just once you can have your turn to live.