Love confuses the senses. It tricks us into seeing what is not there.
To her indiscretions, I was not blind. Nevertheless, my capacity for forgiveness seemed to far exceed her ability too shame me. All the while I maintained an air of cool dispassion in an effort to give her space and freedom so as not to drive her away.
Came in to find our little princess all on her own. The house, suspectingly quiet. All her attention focused on...wait! Is that our photo album? Page after page she flipped. My effort to get her attention off the album and to my arrival proved futile. Gone are the days when kids would run to their parents with arms wide open, just so as to receive that warm hug from one tired parent. Now that I'm here, I tend to think parents need that more than their kids do.
Relieved myself of that coat I had all day. Such a relief. Lessened that tie and just as I went to put it down, something caught my eye. Still, I brushed it off as mere speculation. Un-cuffed my shirt. No way! Of the three packs of rough riders we kept somewhere on the dressing table, two were missing. Love is blind huh! Guess I was not to see that.
With our little princess on one lap, still she did not want to let go of the album. I tried to explain to her where and when each of the photos were taken. Not that she understood a thing. All this while trying to distract myself from the facts that were smiling and making faces in my mind.
Looking at the photos, I reflect back on our time together and am amazed by my patience and quiet resolve to maintain what I have come to know as the status quo. Such forbearance and fortitude in the face of her constant betrayals. She had me loving her from day one and I thought I had her loving me. United by body and soul.
It has been five years ever since we met. Three years ever since we made our vows. Our vows said true are now worth less. Time flies. At one point in time, we had loved each other. on my lap, was the fruit of our love. Our love, once sturdy like granite against a storm has now been eroded by elements of distrust, unspoken discontents and very bitter jealousies. Now what is left is but only pictorial evidence of a love that once was.
Trying to find her balance, she staggers into the living room. At this point, I'm really putting up a fight to keep my tears back in their place. Still, I have them locked into hers. All this while, the silence that had struck the room, pin drop.
Turning the last page, she looked up to see what a mess her mommy was. She then turned, looked at me. Oh! That innocent face she wore. "What is wrong with mommy?" Not knowing what to say to her, what answer to give that would explain everything, I smile and hold her against my chest and just whisper, "mommy will be okay." It is then that it hit me. I should have been honest with myself. True to my feelings. I should have discarded all pretense and removed the mask. The mask of a patient husband. I had it on for way too long, but my noble efforts were in vain as I appeared to her, merely indifferent.
To her indiscretions, I was not blind. Nevertheless, my capacity for forgiveness seemed to far exceed her ability too shame me. All the while I maintained an air of cool dispassion in an effort to give her space and freedom so as not to drive her away.
Came in to find our little princess all on her own. The house, suspectingly quiet. All her attention focused on...wait! Is that our photo album? Page after page she flipped. My effort to get her attention off the album and to my arrival proved futile. Gone are the days when kids would run to their parents with arms wide open, just so as to receive that warm hug from one tired parent. Now that I'm here, I tend to think parents need that more than their kids do.
Relieved myself of that coat I had all day. Such a relief. Lessened that tie and just as I went to put it down, something caught my eye. Still, I brushed it off as mere speculation. Un-cuffed my shirt. No way! Of the three packs of rough riders we kept somewhere on the dressing table, two were missing. Love is blind huh! Guess I was not to see that.
With our little princess on one lap, still she did not want to let go of the album. I tried to explain to her where and when each of the photos were taken. Not that she understood a thing. All this while trying to distract myself from the facts that were smiling and making faces in my mind.
Looking at the photos, I reflect back on our time together and am amazed by my patience and quiet resolve to maintain what I have come to know as the status quo. Such forbearance and fortitude in the face of her constant betrayals. She had me loving her from day one and I thought I had her loving me. United by body and soul.
It has been five years ever since we met. Three years ever since we made our vows. Our vows said true are now worth less. Time flies. At one point in time, we had loved each other. on my lap, was the fruit of our love. Our love, once sturdy like granite against a storm has now been eroded by elements of distrust, unspoken discontents and very bitter jealousies. Now what is left is but only pictorial evidence of a love that once was.
Trying to find her balance, she staggers into the living room. At this point, I'm really putting up a fight to keep my tears back in their place. Still, I have them locked into hers. All this while, the silence that had struck the room, pin drop.
Turning the last page, she looked up to see what a mess her mommy was. She then turned, looked at me. Oh! That innocent face she wore. "What is wrong with mommy?" Not knowing what to say to her, what answer to give that would explain everything, I smile and hold her against my chest and just whisper, "mommy will be okay." It is then that it hit me. I should have been honest with myself. True to my feelings. I should have discarded all pretense and removed the mask. The mask of a patient husband. I had it on for way too long, but my noble efforts were in vain as I appeared to her, merely indifferent.
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