I don’t wear his ring. I don’t don his name. I get calls only when the timing is right. She is his 8 to 5, I am his shift caught here and there, when it works for him.
She is nice. She takes care of him and makes him smile after a bad day. It makes me thankful for her, but also hate her. I am his missing piece and she is everything I’m not.
No family gatherings shared. They do not know. Other people, aside from a few close friends, do not know. No hands held in public. No cute little public displays of affection. Even our conversations in passing are cut short if the wrong person walks by. No arm placed around me. I am, after all, not “your girl.” Eyes diverted, so others don’t see the emotion behind them. Letters thrown out on your ride home...there is no evidence left.
Many a night spent alone. You'd be amazed to know how very much it eats at a girl to realize that a man wants her but not enough to change his current situation to be with her. After a while, that takes an enormous toll on a girl's self worth.
Guilt sets in when I decide to talk to someone new. Irrational jealousy is inflamed in you. Good guys come, and good guys go...and I cannot see past you. I....can’t do that to you. Ridiculous, isn’t it? And the precedent is set, I am the one left waiting. Always...Always.
Moodiness. Aggravation. Then you make me smile. Damn you. Always.
I have to see you every once and again. Have to deal with the memories. Have to see her....sometimes with you. Are you really happy when you’re home? Do your worlds ever collide and you think of me while you’re...not with me?
This is the double standard. It is fine for your behavior. Somewhat expected. I am, in turn, labeled the homewrecker, the problem, the whore. I am a good person, I swear. I didn’t want this either. But I am the one judged. Because, as I damn well know, that ultimately, this falls on me...because it was “my decision.” And that is the horrible burden that I bear.
Ultimately, we will never really introduce each other to each's family. We will never know what it's like to move in together, or get married or have babies. I will never know what it's like to wake up in the morning next to you. Or to know how rowdy you get watching football games on a lazy Saturday afternoon. I won't ever really have that moment when I get to introduce you to my friends. And if I was completely honest with myself..that's all I've ever really wanted. You've always meant that much.
Shaking my fists and the sky. Hating myself. This is not what I wanted in my life. Not what i expected with my life. And yet, you still remain. 10 years is it? And nothing more than a screwed up, bleak abyss...not even a relationship....Could you even put a name on it? And God no, never any commitment. At least where it concerns me.
Perhaps this is what our elders warned us about. If I'd been smarter...If I had only listened....
But...after all this time...after all of this...mess...I still wait for a phone call. And that makes me hate you. But it makes me hate me more.