|BWS Stories - "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"...Marriage|
"First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"...Marriage - Silent Longing
As a woman who derives great appreciation and enjoyment out of the moments of every day life, as well as working to find an understanding of the darker side of humanity, D.J. is a novice writer who is beginning her personal challenge in the hopes of finding her lost voice and sharing it with others. She has been published in LongStoryShort magazine. Contact: email@example.com
All ignored thoughts and unanswered questions that fester deep within ones psyche thrive in the middle of the night. Thoughts and feelings that are ignored during the day, due to the mind’s great ability to select only those cognitive clues which guide one throughout the complexities of daily business can only be squelched for so long, then the inevitable occurs and there you have it, a night tormented by your own inner fears. The evils of which you try to understand, the questions which you try to solve in the course of a dark, silent room become completely overwhelming in the middle of the night.
Or perhaps they are more overwhelming in the day light hours, which is why the mind shuts down innocently enough, like a life preserver protecting you from the onslaught of waves, allowing one to climb out of that warm bed each morning. If one allowed the thoughts of the many injustices, if one felt the pain and worry during the day as intensely as one feels them during the night, perhaps the day would never start at all.
My thoughts are usually the generic worries that everyone has felt at one time or the other, running along the lines of: Did I log off the computer? Am I worthy? Where is my life going? What can I do to make my family happy? Sometimes more specific as I lay there formulating complete lists, writing a speech for my daughter’s wedding, balancing my checkbook. Is my day so filled up that my mind will not allow me to complete these during the day?
But, always under the surface during the day is a reoccurring question I have about my partner. This man whom I hold in highest regards, the man who has all the characteristics I always wanted. A man of wit, moral strength, generosity and intelligence. This man who emanates masculinity and for whom upon meeting we each felt an immediate and mutual instinctual sexual attraction to and were in complete sync with. This man who has not touched me for many months.
In the middle of the night, awoken by that familiar stirring, aroused by an erotic dream of my own sexuality and the unmet craving I have for him, I lay awake in silent longing, needing to touch him but unable to reach out. How do I live up to the air brushed images he frequently entertains himself with? Why does he choose to replace a loving and intimate relationship with this damaging diversion? Maybe for the same reason he likes to watch sports that he does not play, living vicariously through what he sees. Those who can, do. Those who can’t, watch.
I have gone through such an agony of emotions starting with disbelief and denial to the most ridiculous thoughts of blaming myself. It was the painful process of grieving the loss of such an exquisite intimacy that has turned into a quiet numbing anger. Now I try not to think about it. Until the middle of the night.