love and sad possibilities

I hope you are having a wonderful time visiting your children in Virginia. When you called tonight, you mentioned how relaxed I sounded. We both know it's your code for "I had a drink". A silly code because I don't drink alcohol very often. I have too much to do and too many demands - especially since you have entered my household. But when I do imbibe this past year, you suddenly become a self-righteous teetotaler.

So, yes, I didn't had a drink flowing through my system when you called. Instead, it was the first time in several weeks that you weren't here. In a way, you were correct. I was feeling very relaxed - no worries from listening to your situation, no Spanish inquisition about what I haven't done according to your agenda, no aggravation about my son's stay in MY home. I was able to concentrate on vital projects for my future (and perhaps ours). For the first time in a long while, I was ... happy.

This realization scared me. What if I tell you that you are no longer the soul mate that lovers need? Would you have become vindictive because of spurned affection? Would you then destroy my home that I have opened to you? Would I need to get a restraining order during the next time you are away?

Our lives shouldn't be this complicated. For a woman of 56 and two failed marriages under her belt, you know what I have to offer. Perhaps I'm the trusting fool that should not have let us reach this stage.

I don't know what to do at this moment. I do know that love doesn't exist when fear abounds.

Love of Post-it Notes

Until a few years ago, you would surprise me with Post-it notes of your love and admiration placed on the bathroom mirror, on my pillow, sometimes in my lunch. The sight of your passionate messages always made my day.

All of that is in the past now. Lately you've only left messages when you want something done, or not done.

"Please don’t put the milk in the top shelf." I understand. I certainly don't want the milk to be upset and pout because it didn't get top position in the refrigerator. But if we give milk its way all of the time, won't it get spoiled?

"Please leave the TV on for the cat." Yes, of course. When your cat awakes after spending most of its day in the other side the house away from the TV, we certainly don't want her to miss the melodrama of the daily soap operas. I guess she doesn't get enough from when we are at home.

Out of curiosity, I left a note reminding everyone to take off their shoes at the door. For almost 10 years, you thought this guideline was a great way to keep the house little cleaner for us and for company. Yet during the past few months, you decided to not respect this little wish. So I left my little note to see what would happen. As I expected, you became incensed when you found my written words. How dare I do such a thing as tacked up a gentle request!

I see where this relationship is going. It's as though your sticky notes of love have lost their adhesion to my heart. Your continual claims of love are becoming more like empty sounds as your actions do less and less to prove your words. Here's note: while you're playing on the computer, start looking for an apartment - try zillow.com instead farmville.

love and stupid postings

I quietly get up at 5 am and do everything I can to keep your sleep undisturbed. Yet, in the evening, you complain that I don't stay up long enough. You want me to sit by your side as you play Farmville and chat with people until 2 in the morning. I'm sorry. 12 hour days at work are a tad tiring. Still, I try to make you happy.

And then, I saw your Facebook post this morning, "I need a hug."

I'm sorry that I've been more prone to sleep than to listening to your daily rants. These past few days have been especially draining on me. But a supportive spouse would recognize that.

The only reason that I'm writing this is because I am becoming a little tiresome of your childish demands. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to earn money to pay my bills - and your bills while you remain unemployed.

Love and the bonus

I did very well at work last year. I made my company lots of money; I developed several innovative systems; I raised morale of my coworkers in spite of bad times. And so, for my efforts, I received a bonus of a few hundred dollars.

I was so proud of my accomplishment that I almost told you about it when I held you in my arms that day. Almost. Then the words unconsciously stuck in my throat until I realized their spoken consequences.

In the past, you would have bolstered my victory with encouraging words of your own. Now, I can only expect you to rail about how I should spend my hard-earned reward along the lines of your desires and not to my guidelines for our lives.

When this realization struck me, my little victory disappeared in a sad realization of how our relationship has changed. And so, tearfully, I have told you nothing. Perhaps that doesn't matter. We both know I'll end up spending on you and your bills any way.

Love and Moo, y'all

"Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free." Not the best relationship advice to follow; especially since I somehow wound up being the cow. Udderly ridiculous!

Yet, here I am, wondering what I'm heifer as you yank me this way and that. This way and that way and this way and that way. Have you ever seen a laddie yanked this way and that? And not in the good way either.

So I laugh, a childish laugh, as our relationship becomes guided by childish nonsense, instead of adult love and respect.

Moo, y'all, moo.

love and hostage

Around the neighborhood lurk undesirable characters. Not you - you just have undesirable habits. No, I'm referring to those wonderful souls who quietly invite themselves into the homes and cars of our peaceful neighbors, and steal things.

When I lived alone and couldn't return home because of work, I wasn't too worry. I had the blinds drawn over the windows to block the prying eyes of passers-by. The living room lights would automatically turn on when they sensed the approaching darkness of the night. To the outside world, it looked as though someone lived inside.

Now, you and your family live in my home. We happily open the shades to let in the warmth and beauty of daylight. So, to protect you and your goodies from those with thieving hearts, I ask that we close the window shades at night. Otherwise, anyone can stand by the roadside, hidden in the shadows, and easily make an inventory of our belongs brightly lit by the living room lamps. Yet, you repeatedly ignore my simple request.

Are you so pampered that you don't have the strength to stand up and twirl the curtain rod a few turns to close the blinds? Is the darkest outside the windows and the sudden appearance of light from the living room lamp not enough of hint? Are my requests too much for you?

I feel like I'm living in a hostage situation for my life. I've met your demands; I've changed my habits; I've gone above and beyond to accommodate your every desire. How about you put a little action behind your words of "I love you"? How about you clean your messes? How about you respect my wishes?

I guess I could escalate this hostage situation by changing the door locks. But at that point, we would only be negotiating how to get your stuff out of my house. Our relationship would no longer be part of the talks. Then we would become the most undesirable of characters - angry ex-lovers.

all is fair in love and fair

To be fair, we can say that you’ve tried. But, to be County Fair, your reflection in the fun mirrors of my heart has gotten uglier.

Sorry. That was a little mean. Still, I've found myself look forward to the tension-free times when you're away.

You keeping saying, "I love you." I wish your actions and attitude spoke the same words.