Hello pen pals!
This one's a bit different for me,
feel free to skip if it's not your cup of tea,
coffee, or Diet Coke.
No worries. ~J
The story is so familiar. She wakes up for everyone else. She gets the kids fed, dressed, and off to school. Her husband must be out the door before the light of dawn, but not before she wakes, makes his coffee, and kisses him on his way out. She starts a load of laundry, cleans up the carnage left in the kitchen as the children run off to meet the bus, and slowly starts up the stairs picking up things along the way and returning them to their proper place. Every thing in their places, including her. She is not sad, or mistreated. In fact, she has a very happy life. In many ways it is the perfect life. She is just lost within it. Lost in the laundry, the making of lunches, in being arm candy at the office party. This was the life she chose, the life she
wanted, and the life she is living.
She loves her husband, it has been a wonderful 8 years. She knows he loves her, but over the years their relationship has changed, they have become more like friends living in the same house. Like business partners, running the most productive, well oiled, company on the planet. Her friends envy her.
If they only knew.
She sits quietly in her kitchen waiting for the ding of the dryer, listening to the seconds slowly tick off on her old kitchen clock. Her mind wanders off, back to months before, her chance meeting with an old friend. She has not seen him in years, 8 years to be more exact. He is older now, but still so handsome. She is surprised and almost embarrassed by how his eyes have taken her back to the last time they met. His sweet charm, and gentle manner bring back old feelings, feelings she had long thought forgotten. And, oh, his smile. It was contagious.
Their chance encounter had spurred an impromptu lunch, talking about old times, how much things have changed, and yet, it was as if they had never missed a second of each other's lives. He stares at her across the table, he knows their time is fleeting. He can see it in her face, in the afflictions in her voice, that she must leave. Her reality is calling her. Her takes her hand and begs for another lunch, just another hour. She agrees.
Lunches with him turn to dinners. As the guilt eats away at her for leaving her family, her children, her life, behind, she washes it down with her thurst for the passion she's been craving, passion she's been
needing for far too long. She feels torn, she should be home baking cookies for the PTA, filling out camp forms, tucking in her babies. Instead she is here, feeling connected for the first time in a long time. Connected to
him, but even more importantly, to herself. He can see the anguish she goes through trying to fulfill herself, while giving everything she has away to everyone she loves. He has watched her slowly fade into the background, letting everyone else shine through. Even though it may not be the
right thing for everyone else, he knows all too well what he needs to do. He must take her away, far away. He must show her what she's been missing, show her that there is a balance. Show her that
she still matters.
The buzzer of the dryer sounds and she is brought back to the realities of her day. Folding towels, finding the missing sock, the smell of dryer sheets permeating the air. This is her life, her home, taking care of
them. But he just wants to take care of her. She can't leave them. She can't be that selfish.
Or can she?
Tucking her children in that night, she spent extra time making sure they know how much they are loved. She counts their freckles, she pats their hair back.
It's only a few days she thinks,
They will be fine. She turns out the lights, and returns to her room. Bags packed, she heads out the door to meet the awaiting car.
She glances back through the back window. She watches as all that she is, all that she has, get left further and further behind. Then she glances to her left and sees all that she has now, all that she needs. He takes her hand. "They'll be fine, and so will you. This weekend is about you. About
us." On the plane she rests her head deep in his shoulder, seeking solace from her guilt. She has never been away this long. He holds her tight reassuring her that he will take care of her. She gets lost in him, closes her eyes and tries to bury the shame. She is their
mother, she shouldn't be leaving.
They check in to their hotel, he has spared no expense. The room is lovely, on the fifteenth floor with views postcards are made of. While he's in the shower, she quickly calls home. They are too busy to talk to her, too wrapped up in their everyday lives to even notice what's going on. Oddly enough, this comforts her. To know that they are in fact, fine without her, empowers her. She has done a good job, raised them well, and cared for their bodies as well as their minds.
Someday they will understand, she thinks,
today I am taking care of me.
Still glancing out the window, she is caught from behind. He gently kisses her neck and leads her to the bed. Pillows are tossed aside as bodies crawl toward the center. Bodies meet, curves fitting as if they were cut from the same arc. Every move was fluid, every touch, uninhibited. Here she did not need the television to drown out the sounds of the bed. She did not have to constantly glance at the door to see if someone had awoken from a bad dream. Here, she could let go, she could have her voice, her mind, her body, be heard.
This is what's been missing, from her perfect life, she thought
, This was her place, and this was her old friend.
Time stopped for those three days for her. While the rest of her world at home went on, this new world unfolded in front of them. Seeing new things, trying new foods, experimenting with each other. It was so comfortable, so natural, as if they had been together all along, just lost along the way somehow. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't real. In the morning she would have to return to her old life, and all that came with it. Would
this man come with her? She had no way of knowing. He seemed to love this just as much as she did, but would he miss his old life?
Laying there, wrapped in the safety and security of his arms she wondered. She thought about what she'd done for herself. She knew if she continued to give herself what she needed, love, time outs, expressing her own sexuality and needs, she would not be able to give as much as her family was used to. She rolled over to him, sleeping. Would he understand that
this man was the man she needed? Running her fingers down his arm she took his hand. Slowly sliding her fingers into his, she felt the soft, smooth metal of his wedding band.
Their wedding bands.
This man was the man she had married all those years ago. This was the man who had melted her soul just shy of half a heartbeat. He brought her here becasue he too realized that something had been missing. He had first noticed it that morning all those months before. She was getting his coffee, going through all the motions of his morning, after being up all night with one bad dream after another. He had spontaneously shown up and whisked her off from her errands to a late lunch, then hired a sitter in the hopes that he could date
her. And it was his prompting, his planning, that allowed them this much needed reprieve. This much needed rekindling of embers, long since left to burn out.
This man wanted
this woman now, more than ever.
They returned home, home to their children, their house, their jobs and their everyday. She still fed children, she still baked cookies, and she still got up everyday to make his coffee.
But now, their goodbye kisses at the backdoor before the sun came up, seemed to last just a little bit longer. And their goodnight kisses often lasted until the next morning.
This was the man she fell in love with.
This was the man she married.
