<maybe>

I feel your head on my chest
as you lay silently next to me
just close your eyes and drift away
I run my fingers through these feelings
unlike any I have have ever
known and yet somehow
kept hoping it would last forever
and maybe this old road I travel on
is all I've got or maybe
it is all I need
at least it's all that I can see
And I feel your hand in my hand
as you walk silently next to me
a perfect fit, this life of ours
stride in stride our thoughts keep pacing
just to reassure you haven't
wandered off too far
I wonder where you're walking now
and maybe this old dream I'm holding
on is all I've got or maybe
it is all I need
At least in sleep your here with me
And I feel your love with my head
as you cry silently next to me
You wonder why I'm crying too
I wipe away the tears with sunlight
breaking through as if to say that
I'm still here with you
haven't moved an inch since that day
and maybe this old prayer I'm hanging
on is all I've got or maybe
it is all I need
Just know that it is said for you

or maybe...or maybe it's for us...

<small>[ March 31, 2003, 12:24 PM: Message edited by: roman77 ]</small>

Excellent Poem, Jay.

I wonder if you are like my H in a way. My H write more when he is hurting - less when the hurt isn't so bad...

Keep posting your poems here... I'll keep reading them!

Take care of yourself - and God bless you!!

-Ang-

Thanks imready =)

Yes, I'm definitely like STTSI. I write *much* more when I'm hurting. Heartache = Inspiration

Roman, your poem is beautiful. I am exactly the same as you - I literally can only write when I feel distressed and full of grief. That's why two of my very 'best' poems were written just days and weeks after D-Day. They almost seemed to write themselves, as my heart spilled out its contents.

You obviously still feel a great deal of heartache and agony about the loss of your wife. Even though I am still married - still in fact, living with my husband (who swears he will never leave me and that he doesn't WANT to leave me), I understand so well what you meant when you said it would not have been 'her' lying next to you in bed. Every single night I lie next to a person who looks like the man I married twenty years ago, who sounds like him, feels like him, smells like him - but who is a complete stranger. The barriers between us are getting higher everyday, and I ache, I yearn, I scream out to get back that man I knew and loved - and still do love so much. But I have this horrible, frightening, soul-destroying feeling that even if/when he gives up his OW, however much I continue to love him, however much he may continue to love me (he tells me he still does) that I will never again get back that man I knew. Have you heard the lines from someone called John Gottmann about adultery? He says,

'I liken an affair to the shattering of a Waterford crystal vase. You can glue it back together, but it will never be the same again.'

That is so true. I am in the process now of trying to scrape up all the millions of shattered fragments of the vase my husband has broken, and then, if he ends his affair, I will try the even more difficult task of desperately trying to stick those pieces together again so as to make up a vase which at least looks something like it used to do.

I always enjoyed jigaw puzzles. But I have the awful feeling this one might prove too much for me.

God bless - and keep writing and posting. It helps - a little.

Stilltrusting

Hey Jay -

How is it going? Haven't heard much lately... H and I just got back into town on Saturday <img border="0" title="" alt="[Smile]" src="images/icons/smile.gif" />

I hope things are going okay for you right now - keep writing those poems. It is good for me to know that my H isn't writing as many anymore (I think that proves to be a good thing...)

If you feel the need to chat... I am here...

Take care of yourself <img border="0" title="" alt="[Smile]" src="images/icons/smile.gif" />
- Ang -

Hi Jay,

it's 3am and I can't sleep. I'm back in my secret world of hurt and have come back here to read and relate to everyone else's pain. It's so comforting to know that I'm not alone out there.

It's still so hard, you know. My husband's affair has really, deeply broken my spirit and some days I don't know how to quite get it back. The poetry here helps me more than all the therapy in the world. Please continue to share your gift.