FROM A BOY TO A MAN

One day, long ago, a boy, shy and scared, walked in his world.  And in his world, it was gray.  The light would not penetrate the fog, through the trees.  In his forest, he lived a solitary life, hidden from the world.  He could not let them see, not let them in.  He had hooded eyes, a hooded soul.  It was easier this way.

This boy struggled toward the thing that made him whole and in this found if he struck the earth with his fist or his foot, he felt whole.  This boy threw his arms into the air and by so doing covered his real face from the world, and the world said, "What a fine boy this shall be, he walks with greatness when he strikes the earth." So he learned to strike it more.

This boy became very good at striking the earth and they came to marvel at his prowess.  He was not the best but he was very good.  His hooded eyes betrayed his insides.  He was seen for his beauty.  He seemed what he was not.  He seemed as if solid and pure and to be trusted.  But he felt unsteady.  He knew that underneath the hood lay much melted ice.  He knew that he was unformed and he did not trust his ability to run and leap, and to strike the earth.  His beloved held his hand, and stood with him.  But, surely he had to find new stones.  He had to continue to strike new places.

As was with the boy, so did the man begin to show only the hood to the world, and to his beloved.  He then would thump and strike when no one was looking.  And he grew another face.  He had to put this one in a jar when he wanted to seem ok, in the light, not living in the gray.  He knew in his heart, he was living always in the gray.  No one else knew.  He found the underlings who would live in the gray with him, as he struck the ground in a bad way and fed this grayness anew.

Many years did pass and one day this boy who had grown to a man arose from his bed of briars.  He arose from this nest of fools that he had created and he ripped open his chest and found a rotting thing there.  He raised his fist to the heavens and said "No More."  But many moons has come to be.

In his thoughtless journey through life he had lived a life that left many bodies along the way.  You cannot wear two faces without committing great harm, you must be true to one only.  You have to have a heart that is only to one, your beloved.  You must cleave to home.  He learns too late that he has lived the life of a fool.  That the boy who lived in gray had a choice as a man to live in the light, and now he wants the light.  But, what shall he do with this second face?

He wants to bathe in the waters of forgiveness and new life.  He desires to look upward and move forward to the place that he should always have been.  But what of the bodies?  How can he clean up where he has struck the earth?  His beloved stands before him, sobbing, with a torn heart.  She stands before him, with a broken back, bleeding and bent.  On her pillow, are tears of blood.  She never knew.

Once there was a boy, shy and scared who became a man, insincere and selfish.  He killed those who loved him most and now he wants it all.  How will this end.

In My Dreams

I walk up and down the halls of my dreams and I cannot find you
I open all the doors and it seems I need to remind you
I loved you and gave you my heart and my life for today and tomorrow
But you left me and now
I walk up and down the halls of my dreams but I can't find you

I can still see you there with the sun behind you
Smiling and laughing and loving me
I held your hand and smelled your brown skin
In my young young life
And the future had texture to hold onto
The future was bright and had promise

But then you left me in mid-air
You left me suspended there
A sentence unfinished, you were suddenly not there
All I knew went away, it left in one day
It left for no reason, with a shot in the heart
Leaving me with nothing to hold onto
My body was shattered, no longer whole
You were the center of my life and you gave meaning to my soul.

You left me that day, and I pushed all the pain away
I wanted you to stay, I had so much more to say
Then my world tilted to the left and I entered the darkest night
Nothing would ever be right as for my sanity I did fight
I am running in my dreams and in my dream I scream
Watching you walk up the steps as slowly you turned around
Then you are gone, it all was wrong, and I bent backward

I walk up and down the halls of my dreams
I gasp for air, or a handle, someone who would care
Any part of reality to get me over there
To the place where is makes sense, this life of mine
It has been fraught with heartache and too much pain
So little gain, you were to be my groom and then gone too soon.
But you left, you just checked out, there was no more sound
And now I seek you in my dreams.  Alone.

DEFENSIVE BULLSHIT

She can blog all she wants, she can let anyone she wants have it but it does not change anything.  She can get busy and move around, she can run to and fro and it is always the same.  Nothing can change what happened.

How does she really move on.  She knows how she did it before.  She knows what it took. She knew how to change the movie.  In her mind, in the wall in her brain, there was a movie.  Regardless of whether it was black and white or technicolor.  It could turn on if she passed a street or heard a sound.  She taught herself to be strong to change the movie, to not allow it to change her.  She focused on her life at hand, on becoming a better wife, on learning to earn a living rather than raising her children and staying at home.  She could not depend on her husband to take care of them any longer.  He had shown that something in him had changed.  She had to as well.  So, she did.

But now, she is undone.  She did all that she knew to do.  She sat in counselors offices, she took their advice.  They told her "He is right to want to play ball and all that he does, you are wrong.  You need to find something for you.  You need to go out with your friends and dance if he will not go."  So, she had, but that was a big problem.  Not that she went out, but that he became so very self centered and that they endorsed it.  The professionals.  They told him that he was right, that it was okay to spend all weekends on the ball field, they forgot that your children are only small one time.  And if she did as he did, there can only be one Rock Star in a family, someone has to raise the kids.  They will only remember vacations and picnics and going to the pool once.  Why would he think that it was ok to play ball ALLLLL weekend long, weekend after weekend and through the week as well, preening on the field while other women blushed and said, "oh, you have the best legs of any person in the whoooole league."  In front of his wife and kids.  Ego.

So, as time goes by, and she gets less and less from him, and he takes more and more.  He is a moron.  He does not see what he has, and he does not WANT what he has.  His gold.  His children and his wife who  waits for him to wake the fuck up.  The reel may begin to spin if she smells a smell or if a season of year comes around,  It may start up if someone says a name, or if she remembers a time.  She has already learned this exercise.  She is a pro and as a pro, she knows when something is just not working.  So, when someone says to her now, "You have to move on, you have to blah blah blah," she wants to either punch them, cry for them, run from them or walk away.  They have NO idea what she has been through or done.

He is undone.  He wants it all now.  He is older and he, finally, is wise.  When she says to him "you did not love me when you married me" he does not stop her or say "yes I did" so it is true, so he should just stab her in the heart and be done with it.  For that, she almost hates him.  She is unsure how love and hate can live in the same heart, but she knows that it can.

He left her bed for years and now she is supposed to be patient while he works out his guilt, the guilt that he took on from having sex with all those women, those women who were, laughingly, her friends.  Old homely Patti, silly Millie, immoral Vapid Vivian, mousy Tanya, selfish Tanya2, Juicy J, the fourth street whore and the ones who stood in the doorway, who took phone calls, made out with him and chickened out, ole Christine Gray, Sheila Temple and God knows who else.  All of them.  She cannot even remember all of them now.

Today, for her, is a very bad day.  Today, she hates him.  Today, she remembers it all, all too clearly.  She hopes that when she wakes up tomorrow, she will feel better.  That she will be able to go to Pilot Mtn. without wincing because he took Vapid Vivian to a cabin there and homely Patti to screw in the biking parking lots there, he screwed her in every lot in the state.  That she can drive by Miller park or any of the other city parks and not be sick to her stomach remembering that he met Silly Millie there to sit in the car and talk sex shit until Silly paid for a hotel room to seal the deal.  Millie, her coworker, high school classmate and so forth.  That maybe one day she can ride to the side of town where her therapist's office is again, because she had to stop going as she had to go by Reynolda Gardens, a special place she used to go with him before they married and he took Vapid Immoral Vivian and Homely Patti there for a rendezvous.  He has no respect for her.  He met Homely there after knowing how much it hurt her that he took Vapid there years before.  He has had no feelings for her pain at all.  Just for himself.  He has been a pig.  Or he has intended to hurt.  Which is it.

So how does she stop the movie.  How does she make it go away.  When it was a movie of he and one, she learned, but now the cast is so large and it does not merely cover a summer but rather thirty years.  And, the many ways and means of pain he inflicted onto her are unbelievable.  For this, she hates him.

He said to her tonight, "When you say that to me, you make me be defensive."  Really, you have a defense to this tawdry life?  You feel like any human being in this planet could defend this?  No, fuck you.  That was the wrong thing to say.  Let me hand you a shovel.

Love In Green Eyes

This post was written as a tribute to a wonderful young man who died way too young.  I loved him, and I hurt him.  I found great joy with him too.  For all these many years I have not been able to grieve his loss for many reasons, but I am trying to do this now.  Some of what I have written is challenging and it may seem inappropriate as I am married and my life is full and complete.  But had Wayne lived, my life would have turned out differently.  When someone takes their life, you are left with many emotions:  heartache, anger, grief and depression.  I had to pack these away in my heart, put a padlock on them and carry them around for 43 years.  Last year, 2012, I finally took the chains off and lay them out to heal.  And, also, I want him to be remembered.  He was a force to be reckoned with in that he was one of the kindest, most sincere and loving people that I ever have known in my life and I will forever miss and grieve him.  8/19/2013

 

 

 

On August 8, 1969, a humid summer night, after dating this wonderful young man, our plans were changed when we got to our friend Beverly’s house. Her parents were out of town so I was spending the night there and he was coming in to hang out but her dad had unexpectedly shown up. So Wayne left in a hurry. I wrote about this initially from a raw painful place and in an emotional way as if it just happened because I had never dealt with it. Now I have.

That evening he kept coming back and riding in front of her house to the wee hours of the morning. We could not go out. But he came over and over. As soon as it was ok, I called his home, around 8:00am, as he had to go to work, so I knew he was up. But his Aunt answered and just started weeping and hung up. Alarmed I called back and his sisters boyfriend told me what had happened, some of which I pieced together years later.

Wayne had had a very emotional break, crying and he started giving away his things, his money to his younger sister. No one could console him. He was just extremely upset. I found out he had spent the day buying a suit to be buried in. 

Two weeks prior I had told him I needed some time to be sure we should get married when we graduated in June. I was trying to be honest, it was the end of summer and we spent every single night together and all days that we could. He took it hard. I would see him on the fringe of hang outs watching. But that night when we dated I gave him a letter and told him I was sure and  I loved him. He hugged me and put it in his sock, where it remained.

They finally talked him into going somewhere and as they left on the street they lived on, him following in his car, they saw him stop in their rear view and try to back up and turn around. But he backed into a ditch and was stuck. He jumped from the car, walked to a clearing and shot himself dead in the center of his beautiful heart with a 22 rifle. While one rushed to call for help the other tried to resuscitate him. But he died instantly. 

The next few days were a blur. Why did he do that? His precious mother asked that over and over through the years, her heart irreparably broken. His siblings were shocked, never the same and while I spent all my time with them up to now, they were lost to me. I free floated alone. Scared, confused. And was never the same to this day.

This page was about the loss of someone no one mentioned, someone great, loving, compassionate and gone. For years I put flowers on his grave for different reasons, I slept on his grave and they had to come find me. I will always carry him in my heart, as I was in his and went with him that night.

  

So today is August 9, 2023. I miss you Wayne and will always love you. See you soon.

unnamed

Her eyes shut and as she drifts away, she is floating.  She can see light grey around the edges, working it's way to the center, then she hears a mans voice, clear and determined say "Jan".

Her eyes fly open, her breath stops.  She immediately puts her hand on the device in her chest, feels to see if it is moving, buzzing, doing anything.  "Shit, I won't be able to feel it, will I?".  It had been feeling weird tonight, that flipping thing, that pacemaker that she calls her "Maybelline Compact".  It is a big bitch.

So, now she is awake.  Again, and tears slide down her face, getting caught in her hair.  She turns her face toward the little fan on a stand that she keeps on her bed side table, seeking to have moving air on her face, she is sweating and broken, yet again.

Whose voice was that?  Was it her dad?  No, no, no...it did not sound like him.  She strains to hear it, it has not quite faded yet.  She closes her eyes and opens them slowly, staring at the ceiling, like every single night of her life for the past four years.  Her heart is chucking and jiving, just dancing around in her chest.  She hates it.  She wishes it would just stop jumping, boogying.  God damn it.  Stop.

She starts to cry in earnest, when she opens her eyes, the light show begins.  As her eyes open it is like the upper lid is sweeping across the ceiling and walls with little lights in the lashes.  No matter how many times she opens and closes her eyes, the affect is the same.  It is like that every night.

She thinks, "every night, forever, I will be awake.  I will think about heart break, loss and crap.  Sleep will elude me, and I will just die.."  She feels like she is slowly dying, but the curious thing is  she is not that scared.  Dying has become an obsession, She has ridden a roller coaster of fear off and on since He told her about his double life five years ago.

If anyone would ever have told her that you really, truly can lay awake all night long, she would not have believed it.  But, you can.

If she lays on her right side, the "thing" is comfortable but she will inevitably snore herself awake, something is deviated or something up in there.  But, if she lay on her left side, with her man made boobs smashed together, she can feel the irregularity of her heart really well, if it is acting up.  And at bed time it seems to be at it's worst.  Don't know why.  Asshole thing.

So, he awakens, his alarm goes off, and he stirs.  She scooches up to him, they entertwine and offer each other comfort and peace for the few minutes that they have.  But all too soon he goes off to kill the fatted calf for their food, ie: work for the man.  She loves him, has since the minute she saw him, but she is so confused about him.  She is angry over what he did to their life.  Not what he did to her, what he did to them, both of them.  He led a double life, he has been a horrible person.  Confession may be good for the soul, but not for hers.  When he leaves, she can finally go to sleep.  Like every other day.

They Knew, Not You

Now at this time, now when the final act is at hand, I have only destruction and pain to look back on and I cannot live my life over again.  I want to vomit at how my life was wasted, how my love and time was spent so wrong.  Not just with him but with all those around me.  They were users and just along for the good parts of the song.  But I was there for a soft place for them to fall, I cared if they hurt or if they cried.  I went to them in the night and I held them and I spent my time and my tears in their fights. 

I have loved and have hurt and now I see how it really was.  It was me in a fog, with a smile or a sharp tongue, but all the while I was behind them, and would never turn them away, regardless of whether it left me undone.  Yes, the women and the men, and the friends and the small.  The fat and the friendly and the mean, yes, them all.  They came in the fog, they came in the night.  They came from his truck and they smiled, now how I fight.  I fight to remember all those around me all the time.  Those who were laughing and jiving and telling me with their actions it was fine.  We were buddies, campers, dancers, we rhymed.  We were soldeirs, cancers, bangers and blind.  I was the blind, they were in the light.  They crept behind me, they lived in the night.  I ate their bullshit, I swallowed their bile.  I combed their hair and they sharpened their teeth on me laughing all the while.

I should have seen them, I should have known. I should have smelled them, they were wrong.  They hated me, they had to to have done this thing to our souls.  Mine is scorched and it is burned and I have to deserve this horrible end of my life.  I have to deserve this, I must have been a bad friend, a most mean person, no one would stab you in the back and cause this much hurt.

I am amazed at lives lived wide open, still moving forward while I am choking on dirt.  I am grasping the air with a dead hand, while inside the pain is too much to defend.  I put too much into my friends, these people who brought me so much woe.  When I said to them "I love you, I will help you" or "come with me, share my life" it was to be so.  But now, I am alone, they are gone and what they were doing is beyond what I could know.  Their eyes were hooded, their mouths were blackened, their hands were dirty and they would never show.  I was so stupid, a dumby, an idiot so gross.  No one could have deserved this more than me.  No one, more, I have to know. 

Of course I was told this so very long ago.  "No one is your friend, they use you, you are a fool, don't you know?".  I thought it was a mean thing, I did not realize she was a gypsy with vision and future sight and that was how my life would grow,  I heard that again from my own blood and much worse things, who would say that to someone who would but that it was so? 

Oh Jannie, oh Jannie, how does your garden grow?  With your hearts blood, you are so stupid.  You are useless and worthless, they saw you coming, now you finally know.

Waves

By Jan Smith

Softly they caress me and lull me along
Heaving me upwards and forwards
As I reach out to my lover, grasping
With need for a future so strong.

Then I crash ever headlong
Flailing and drowning going down
Take this cup from me please God
My soul screams out as I drown, drown.

My heart misses beats, it feels wrong
Breath does not come out right
I am flung onto quick sand,
Sucking my soul out of my life.

Torn

January 11, 2011

As you recover and learn why you lived that life
As you discover what love really is
I have the heartache to fear you never loved me
And I am ripped, frayed and I cry.

It helps to know you never loved the hollow times
That you were lost in a fog following rumors of whores
But I was a real person, your wife, the mother of life
And my heart is bleeding and torn all to hell.

I find solid ground knowing I could do nothing to stop you
You were looking for a porno-like slut or whore
I could never have filled that need inside you
You were listening to other men to find your score.

But I am broken because it seems I was not considered
It makes me hurt in my stomach, my heart, my core
You spit in my face and told me you loved her
While you held me down on our kitchen floor

And now you are "learning" what love is about
While I have loved you all of my life
I feel so empty, so tired and stupid
And so weary, in my back I feel a knife.

Why did you let her come to those ballgames?
Why did you allow her to hurt me time and again?
Why didn't you tell her to not come where I was?
Why weren't you more of a man?

Did it make you feel special because she pursued you?
A woman who was so immoral and barren she had no soul
How could you feel good allowing this person to hurt me?
How and why, tell me, because I want to know?

This up and this down, it kills me
If I have cancer again, I will not survive
You cannot give me back my peace of mind
You cannot now keep me alive.

You could have told her to go away when you were with her
You could have set some boundaries and saved me that pain
Instead of lying and saying you were not seeing her
And if not then, you saw her over and over again

And to her, you were just a spare tire
She called on you when she was bored or alone
And you went and betrayed me and your ownself
Until her nail polish dried and she was ready to move on

And all the others were visits to sex land
To try to find solace or relief or a salve for your mind
That only made you worse and sent you further
And made you cocky, stupid and blind.

You had to get caught to stop what you were doing
And you did not love that ugly dog, that car whore
You never missed her one second when you walked away
She was just easy to control, as ugly girls usually are

As Time Goes By

By Jan M Smith 11/30/2010

I have to chuckle in my beer mug
As I think of those women he took
And used in his sickness and threw away
And never looked back or even shrugged

Oh, the one I never met her, what a loser
Her poor husband and child never knew
But I found her, she knows I did
She never responded, probably vomited, good.

The other thinks she is a princess,
With her high waist, pointed chin, long skinny teeth
Beautiful eyes and a voice like a chipmonks
And lost in a mirror and so deceived.

And then there is the one, ole silly, giggly
All snow white, fluffy skin and hair
Out of shape always with kankles
Batting her eyes, a stupid rabbit in a snare.

Oh there is Joyce with a lisp and bad teeth
Was already a practiced adultress with no chin
Had hammer toes at the end of her bowed legs
Now she is fat as a cow with teats.

And my good old friend of oh so many years
Thought he loved her, oh her poor sad tears
But he never loved her, he only used her
Walked away from her without a care.

And of her I found some pictures
Recent ones that made me sick
She is ugly, bad hair and is disgusting
Looks just like an indian man, a nasty hick.

And of me , how do I fit in
Tell me where do I stand
I stand as a person in great pain
Trying to get over the betrayals and live again

I would rather be me than ever be them
The sickness and evil they carry inside
They have a lot to answer for one day
Gray haired living with their lies.

Forgiveness???

by Jan M Smith, June 2010

I sit here as I come to the conclusion I dreaded the most
I will never forgive my husband, I will never lose that ghost
I shall always see him with my friends making me a fool
I will never be free to live with all the disrespect to my soul

I do not want to be at the junction, the place, this time
I have fought it for two years, he has tried to be so kind
But he can never undo all the horrors he brought to my life
All I ever wanted to do was love him and be his wife

When I say I wish that I had died in surgery in 2004
It is not just for drama, or reaction, or to score
If I had gone to my death and never have been told those facts
My daughters lives would be so much better, so intact.

I would not want him to have the money that came when I died
But, I would be gone, so I suppose he and Patti would wait and then fly
Off to Utah or CO or some state that offers biking Shangri Las
Me out of the way, never the wiser, just stupid as I was til I died

You hurt me you bastard, you bastard, you son of a bitch
You heartless bastard you son of a bitch you killer of my life
You tore out my heart when I was sick, you and that ugly whore
You threw me away, so easily, so easily, you trash on the floor

And now, here I stand in the middle of the ocean
On this island of one and alone with my skin on fire
Asking God why I ever met you, why he hated me so much
To send me you, you, you so evil, so corrupt.

Right Now

By Jan M Smith May 2010

I am not so angry with you at this time
I do not feel like I want to shred your heart in your chest
I am numb if the truth be told and feel nothing
And I am not sure if that is what is for the best.

The crisis of always remembering
Of thinking of you being unfaithful and a liar
Seeing you inside my mind with my friends
Making love, or laughing in the night.

Those visions made me want to slap you
Just slap you until you could not breathe
Make you cry and cry like I cry
Make you cry and cry and then heave

But right now I feel nothing, nothing
I am numb and just want to get on
It is an odd way to feel after all the visions
Right now, but who knows bout later on.

Pin Ball Pain

By Jan M. Smith May 2010

In a group from one to the other
Sharing pain fired off in a rapid way
Bouncing from one but sticking on another
Bringing enlightenment and new meaning on Monday.

We are different in the very same way
We are rich and we are poor and we cry
We all have spouses who care more about a climax
Than the fact that they make us want to die.

Our eyes are all tired and they are alert
We are a contradiction all around the room
We are young and we are older
But regardless of our age we all feel the doom

Men children have brought our worlds to it's knees
Men babies and their tantrums need to have a time out
Men tots need their asses kicked
But we all have lived our lives afraid of this lot.

But in this group, one from the other
We share our pain and it is not so rapid this way
Our eyes fill with tears for ourselves and each other
And we go off and come back again next Monday.

Sillie Giggly

By Jan M Smith  May, 2010

Once upon a time in a town that is mine
A beautiful girl was born who fought all the time
Because she felt less than the rest,
She just felt trashy and poor at best.

But as happens so many times with a beautiful girl
After she learned how to bleach and curl
And discovered makeup, and how to tilt her head
Her powers lay in getting a man into her bed.

Now, this worked well if she wanted to get back at a friend
Someone who was smarter, or pretty & doing well on their end
A person she could never be, who had a husband she wanted
She would get back at them through the husband and not be daunted

The only problem with Sillie Giggly was as all liars do
Lies catch up to you and cause you to look like a fool
All over the internet you can find her name
Crying over late house payments, smears on her fame

Sue someone for defaming her for telling the truth?
Go ahead Miss M,  you trollop, IP addresses will be your noose
Dates and times and your account that you used to lie on that site
Will sew you up tighter than Dick's hat band, that's right.

You are pathetic, sad, whiney, all pink and sheer
Your friends know who you are now, a pig, a thief, so queer
Flabby, transparent, holding up a facade
Christlike?  Pentacostal? Oh My God.

Never The Same

By Jan M. Smith May, 2010

I listen to you talk and look at your face
A young woman who is lost, alone in every place
Accusing and critical of most everything I say or do
It seems these days that I no longer know you.

Not long ago I was lost on the edge of insane
Things I learned pushed me hard I fell to the edge of my brain
Waves of pain and shock echoeing in my body day by day
I was too out of touch with the world to be afraid

But in that dark time of sorrow and woe
Riding in that ship filled with thorns, thrown to and fro
As I bled and I cried and I flailed in the air
I was not myself, I was lost, too much so to care.

Unless you have walked in those shoes you can not understand
What one person can do, how cruel is one man
And if you add to this evil mix the fact that I was not well
It was certainly a recipe written straight from hell.

You forget that you wished your family to all go away
You forget that you wanted to start afresh, have a new day
You forget that you envisioned someone else there nine months to prepare
And you pushed me away to have her, but she seemed to not care.

And if in these past two years you have forgotten the ones that came before
If you can disregard the times I held you and soothed you, picked you up off the floor
Sang you a song, kiss your golden hair, made your clothes, held your hand
If those years do not matter, then I will never understand.

No, I will never be the same, I have been changed, my free spirit lost
For believing in love and trust and then have this, it came with a cost
But this is my life and I am struggling and I cannot change what you scream to me now
There is no care for me in you, none, no how.

Trouble

By Jan M. Smith, Arpil, 2010

Pausing in my mind, stumbling over the past
Visions of a life that I have never seen
Cause anxiety and pain to wash over me
And know that my life was just a bad dream.

I hunger for information and instead eat more food
Or I starve and die inside a cocoon
These great waves of emotions will not stop tearing me down
As I continue my free fall flailing like a clown

Sometimes I long to be the sinner, the bringer of pain
Licking my fingers, my lips, the thighs of my lovers in my game
Lying to my spouse with no conscious all for my gain
Snapping my fingers and whistling through life and my shame.

Until one day I get caught, decide I am sorry, oh woe is me
And then I decide that was not the best way to be
And I purge my soul through confession to my spouse
And start all over, cleansed, smiling, hustling about.

But what you leave, you immaculate liar and fool
In your desire to change and yourself redo
Is a destroyed human, your trusting wife
Who never knew and never deserved this life

You made a decision to swim in that pool of evil and shit
And when you were tired you climbed out turning away from that pit
But in the process you threw me into the deep end to flounder and drown
And then you stand here and wonder why I cannot just climb out?

I have to get over 38 years of being a fool, looking back at a life I never knew
Get over you telling women you loved them, taking them out in public on dates
I have to get over being sick and you not caring enough to stop before it was too late
And now I have to learn to love you in spite of all my hate.

You do not know what it feels like to be treated with so much disrespect

You do not know what it feels like to imagine me in the arms of your best friend

You do not know what it feels like to know that our friends knew

You do not know what it feels like to know that your wife has lied to you

You should be hurt like I have, I should go out and do this to you

You should have to lay awake at night watch that movie anew

That will not go away, and the main star is your wife

Hear the sounds that you know that I will make during sex cut you like a knife

You should wonder if he has a bigger dick than you

You should wonder if he made me climax, once, twice, a slew

You should wonder if he made love to me two times each time we met

You should wonder if I would come home and sit on the couch beside you, still wet

You should wonder if anyone saw me climb into the back seat of his car

You should wonder if they saw me take off all my clothes and then saw us together, near and far

You should wonder if I performed sex with him that I did not with you

You should wonder if I told him I loved him and if I ran you down to him, boo hoo hoo

You should wonder if I told him that I only married you because I carried your child

You should wonder if I told him he was the best lover I had ever had.

You should wonder if when I told you I did not feel like it, I was just not in the mood

If it was because I had been with him all day, and not at work, we had a hotel room

Or you should wonder if I brought him to our home, to your bed, and spent the day.

You could remember seeing him all those times out and how he embraced you and shook your hand

And then we would hug and he would say, "Hey, I have not seen you in a long time, how have you been?"

And you could then know that he had seen me at least twice or three times that very week.

And, the anger would make you want to scream to the heavens, and his neck, break.

You could remember calling him to ask him a question and having long phone calls

Him telling you about his son and how many problems he was having with his marriage at home.

And you would be so compassionate with him and it would cause you to call him often to help.

Because you cared about him as your friend and now you realize he was seeing me for 13 years.

You could remember how it felt when you were diagnosed with prostate cancer, how scared you were

How it meant nothing when you had your 10 hour surgery with a 9 day hospital stay and he was at your side

You know now that he was with me within two weeks, neither of us cared about you at all.

Cancer? Big deal. Get over it. Out of sight, out of mind.

You should wonder if I made fun of you, ran you down, tried to justify why I am a whore.

Yes, you should. That is what you have done to me. Only part of it. There are five other women. For these things, I hate you.