Staring out the window tonight,
stars swimming in my eyes
she felt the shift in the silence
and simply asked,
“What are you thinking about?”
Pausing, I contemplated evasion…
Settling on full disclosure,
haltingly,
I explained.
The song on the radio reminded me
that I’m still bruised, still quietly wounded.
While absently caressing it’s country melody,
I remembered all that I would do better to forget.
My confession, repressed each and every day,
gathered force,
a hurricane just brewing.
I told her how my heart deeply longed
-if only just tonight-
to come home,
slip into welcoming, waiting arms,
and say quietly, heavily,
“Baby, I had a bad day.”
To cry out and rail against life’s frustrations,
safe in the shelter
of my someone’s embrace,
tears absorbing into that stalwart chest.
To curl up content and
soothed by the sound of a familiar, well-loved heartbeat.
I told her how I longed
for the sleep found in that strong grasp.
I inhaled-
- and she listened.
Then,
I choked out my anger,
whispered my deep resentment,
my bafflement!
that this was all absent
without my consent, without my okay.
(my tears now flowed unchecked and hot)
Once loosed,
my words were a relentless avalanche.
A rushing flood of useless memories and
unanswerable questions tumbled over one another.
Finally I told her that
I was tired.
So tired.
Tired of wondering,
of hurting,
and so absolutely exhausted with being let down
and paying these consequences of misplaced trust.
I dropped my head
and let her wrap her arms around me.
With a sardonic laugh
soaked in painful memories,
I whispered to her.
“I had a bad day.”
She said nothing,
but her embrace strengthened.
My ragged breathing slowed.
After a time,
we talked of other things.
My speech no longer hampered with
sudden stops and heavy halts,
I laughed.