You lose your love for her and then
It is her who is lost,
And then it is both who are lost,
And nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be.
In a very ordinary world
A most extraordinary pain mingles with the small routines,
The loss seems huge and yet
Nothing can be pinned down or fully explained.
You are afraid.
If you found the perfect love
It would scald your hands,
Rip the skin from your nerves,
Cause havoc with a computered heart.
You lose your love for her and then it is her who is lost.
You tried not to hurt and yet
Everything you touched became a wound.
You tried to mend what cannot be mended,
You tried, neither foolish nor clumsy,
To rescue what cannot be rescued.
And now she is elsewhere
And her night and your night
Are both utterly drained.
How easy it would be
If love could be brought home like a lost kitten
Or gathered in like strawberries,
How lovely it would be;
But nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be.
Words that resonate and have reminded me to move on each time…
My short marriage to a fine young man ended in 2013 and it has been a quiet journey since, one filled with introspection, guilt, heartache and a sudden sense of freedom even. As I turn a year older and hopefully wiser next week, I shed the extra burden off my shoulders and start anew a chapter filled with renewed hope and knowledge that – “Nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be” and neither are you or the partner you choose….
So stop making things perfect and accept the everyday imperfections that life has to throw at you ‘cos in that discovery lies growth…
…With a new found love for myself, I march ahead in search of a more fulfilling journey in this beautiful Kosa silk from my mother’s wardrobe….