Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Tired of thinking

It hurts to find that the thinking, constructing of projectibles, and endless analysis just doesn't work for the stuff that matters-  I, and we, have grown so dependent, and insular. My varied and lively groups of friends has died off over the past ten years.  The first killings were those guys that I used to do single stuff with, and a few couples too. These were deemed to not be "friends of our Marriage", and thus, there was no purpose to spending time with them. One by one I let go, and neglected those friendships. Scrambling for a semblance, or a pretense, to still being a fun guy, a good "buddy", UP for stuff, I lost balance, and further cemented her Idea that these people were just bad for me- It wasn't their fault, or hers- It was mine.

So here we are- I've cast off all my old friends, the people that would take me however I come. And whats left of me is not quite up to parr with any of those great people whose friendship could maybe improve, and refine my errant, UN-focusable Personality. Yeah! I crash on my way home from work! most of the time, after staying awake for a workday, I'm as useful as a pile of ( ) for hanging out or talking. It really does seem like its downhill from here, unless something big changes. I can hardly object when my wife has no use for me, I've disgusted, discluded, neglected, lied to and hurt her. At my best I'm gone at work all day- which is a long time when trying to get a full days work done around the two or three naps that it takes- and then I come home kiss my girls and either fall asleep, sit in a useless daze, or use some stimulating project that I'll never finish, when there is a month's worth of work waiting just to finish a remodel that I started almost 2 years ago.

My wife and I have been so far apart, when she is all that we have.

I miss her.
I miss being in love
I miss her wanting to hold my hand when she cries

It feels like she tears apart

with every turn of my inconsistancies

she hurts, tied to my carcass

she is streched with me

around my bones

a carrier for my minds poisons

I'm empty now but her

the place I go to feel

living along the length of my troubled viens

growing around my tired shell

keeping me from rest

you make us, out of the pieces

bloom despite the meagre soil

the last bud in my hand

all that is good in me

to, with you, share

in simple joy,

to hold my hand when you have to cry

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