You Made Love Leave

She poured every ounce of her soul into loving you. She would have stood by you and loved you forever.

But you couldn’t take it. Pure Love was too much for you. But instead of finding healing for yourself to be able to accept Love, you left her.

You left her for years. Decades even. You left her in a thousand little ways every single day. You left her in such big, undoable ways that no one would have blamed her for leaving you back. But she stayed. And is he loved hard enough to make up for what you couldn’t give.

She stayed because that’s what Love does. She turned towards you because that’s what Love does. She held you while you confessed and cried because that’s what Love does. She saw her partner in distress and she loved you and she stayed.

And in repayment for her affection and steadfastness, you made her cry. You broke her heart. You broke your vows. You broke your home. You broke your promises. You broke her hope.

You didn’t believe you could be so thoroughly loved. You were always waiting for Love to leave you like everyone else did. You needed to prove yourself right and so kept pushing her away by your choices. When she needed you, you left her in a thousand little ways over and over again every single day. As she was choosing you, reaching for you, you were choosing to turn your back to her and step just out of reach.

You slammed the door in Love’s face. Over and over again. You made sure to break trust so thoroughly so many times that even Love couldn’t take it anymore eventually.

Love was so lonely and needed to be reminded that she was also worthy of love. So after decades of turning towards you while you pushed her away, Love finally turned away from that door you had slammed in her face to see what she could see.

That’s when you dealt the final blow. As if finally choosing to love herself was the proof you were always looking for that she, too would leave you.

And you burned the house down on your way out when you broke the hearts of your babies by leaving them, too. You needed to show your children that Love would leave them too. Because that’s how generational trauma works. You made Love leave.

Evil Lisa Loeb and the Chinese Dive Bar

A post-coitus craving for Chinese food led my husband and I to Happy House Chinese Restaurant and Lounge , where their website boasts, "Happy House Happy Bar Happy Food Happy friendly People!" As we approach the weather worn entryway and sticker-clad front door off the parking lot, I realize I need to adjust my expectations. This is not a date night destination kind of place. This is a neighborhood watering hole where North Portland folks come to get more-bang-for-their-buck Chinese food. We place our To Go order in the bright restaurant portion with a petite, soft spoken woman with silky black hair and a sweet smile. We decide to wait with a drink in our hands, so we walk through a set of saloon doors leading us to the noisy, dark lounge. Video poker screens light the path to the bar where the lone bartender sports a messy bun, red lumberjack flannel, and modern, thick, cat eye glasses. Her hardy laugh glides over the noise and stands out. "She's like an evil ...

Someone Is Missing.

Fear. Hope. Sadness. Joy. Loss. Life. I feel like I don't have a right to feel the way I do. We lost our baby last July. No one knows what to say to that. I know I didn't. Heck, I still don't. Some people tried to be sensitive, but usually ended up prying too much and bringing it up when I didn't want them to. Most people mumbled an "I'm sorry," and continued as if nothing had happened. In a culture where abortion is normalized, it sometimes feels like first term miscarriages aren't considered a real tragedy. But they are. Our baby died. After a lot of crying, I started pretending like it didn't happen. I was really good at that. Too good. 6 months later, I was sound asleep and I heard a baby cry so clearly that my eyes popped open! I took a pregnancy test first thing in the morning and it was positive! Then came the fear . I was afraid to be intimate with my husband. I held my breath every time I had to use th...

Let It Burn

It’s official. The divorce is final. I am untethered. No longer a wife. No longer a “Mrs.” No longer able to afford to stay home with the kids. No longer able to look forward to being an empty nester who finally gets to put herself first. No longer picturing sitting on the porch in the morning with coffee and the husband of my youth. I am adrift. I float through several days of sobbing and drinking and not getting out of bed and not wanting to go home and forgetting to feed myself and overeating and sleeping too much and not being able to sleep. I send regretful text messages compulsively, knowing I shouldn’t. Knowing I should practice self care rather than lashing out. But I ignore my wiser, saner voice and send them all anyway. I am flailing. I am suffering. And I do not go quietly. I do not apologize for saying out loud what I’ve been keeping secret for years.What do I have to lose now? Not my marriage. That’s been lost. Exhausted from days or wee...

Genevieve C. West

Search This Blog