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[finallyspeakingout]

Love's Good Night

Does old sol whisper good night

As he sets off to slumber?

Ne’er a sound does he make

with all his blazing glory

That is the sound I must make with you my love

Our nights are vanished

True love is diminished

Blinded by circumstances less frightful

That lessen our lives

Silence must stand

Where fire once roared

As we force our hearts to say good night

With ne’er a sound

[finallyspeakingout]

Love's Good Night

Does old sol whisper good night

As he sets off to slumber?

Ne’er a sound does he make

with all his blazing glory

That is the sound I must make with you my love

Our nights are vanished

True love is diminished

Blinded by circumstances less frightful

That lessen our lives

Silence must stand

Where fire once roared

As we force our hearts to say good night

With ne’er a sound

[finallyspeakingout]

The Non-Affair Affair

She just wants to talk to him. Tell him about her day, what she's doing, how she's feeling, maybe even that she's missing him a little. And hear about him. But all she sees in front of her is a big brick wall. It tears her apart being in love with a married man. One who demonstrates all the affection, stopping short of telling her that he loves her too.

They see each other five days a week at work, and for a short time after work on some days, in the backseat of his SUV. They never cross the line and consummate this affair. But they love on one another in the most sensual, soothing, ways, savoring every touch of finger and lip as she nestles down in his seated lap. They keep their clothes on.

They tell each other how well they fit together, how much they think alike about love and friendship and kindness and calm. How strong their connection is to one another. How they have suffered in similar ways, and need healing. For her, he sparkles, shines. He says holding her is exquisite. She says, I love you, and means it. He almost says, I love you, and thinks he means it.

The days off from work are the roughest. They've never spoken on the telephone. He doesn't think that would be right. But they use their phones to message each other. She usually goes first: How are you today? or Hi, are you there? Sometimes he replies right away. Sometimes he takes a while. Sometimes nothing.

She thinks, he doesn't really love me. I know he's never said it. But I thought he did. He has a wife. He will never leave her. I'm disposable. What in the hell am I doing? I love him so much. We are meant to be together. i know, just know I'm supposed to marry him. It will never happen.

The long awaited message comes in. i haven't been alone today. Wife off work today. So that explains it. Because above everything, he doesn't want to get caught. His wife, who herself has talked about divorce twice, cannot find out. He says he would never do that to her or to himself. To himself.

Patience, she tells herself. Be patient. The time will come. It's just not now. She knows she's touched his heart. She can feel it. He tried to break it off a couple of times. Once, when they'd been meeting after work for just a few short weeks. He wouldn't allow her to kiss him back then. Only hug. They were both married. She hadn't loved her husband in years. But she had never done anything like this. Never cheated.

After a couple of weeks, her almost lover said he couldn't do it anymore. She told him then that she loved him. It was almost a year that they had known each other. They continued being friends. She continued to love him. She left her husband a year later. On that very day, her friend invited her to let him hug her again. This time their lips met as well.

They'd been meeting for about five months when once again, he said he had to break it off. He felt too strongly for her. He was getting confused at home, thinking about her too much, and having to live with the reality of his wife. He held her hand tightly, firmly, tenderly as they talked about ending it. It turned out to be a time out.

A couple of weeks later, they meet again after work. They decide it will be a once in a while kind of thing. She needs him. He wants her. She loves him more and more. He gets more and more confused. They meet more frequently. He talks about playing with fire.

He hugs her tightly, saying he wants her happiness, however it might come. She tells him the same. He means her with another man. She means him with her. She believes in her heart that one day they will be together. Deep, deep down she suspects she's wrong. Yet she cannot picture her life with him not in it.

When she's with him, she's happier than she's ever been. Secure, self confident, pretty, vivacious, desirable, smart. When she's lost contact with him, she can't see around that big brick wall. She's off balance, vulnerable, scared he'll decide to abandon her. She feels like she's playing Russian roulette, except in her game, all but one of the chambers is loaded.

If he knew this is how she felt, she believes, he would end the relationship for certain. He always tells her he doesn't want to be the source of her pain. So she acts as cool as shade under a tree.

If he messages her a lot, there's no problem. Only when he ignores her or tells her things like he's going to be too busy to talk, that her mind runs away. She knows she should end this non-affair affair. Her heart , mind, soul are not ready. They love. They love him. They will always love him.

But "always," like "forever," are not for real life. It's ending again. Changing. He's had an awakening. It came during a session with his shrink. The problems with his marriage have been his fault all along, his wrong way of responding to his wife's criticisms all these years. He's been hardwired wrong since youth, but he can find a new direction.

He tells her this in the backseat of the SUV while they are sitting oh so close, face to face, she running her fingers over the two day growth on his checks, across his furrowed forehead, along his hairy forearms. She spurts out she's so glad he can talk to her, this with her face and body and mind numb. She leans into him, but the attempted hug dies out. He says, see you next week. She can't move fast enough to get out of the car. There's none of the usual farewell formalities.

Cry, she orders herself. Scream like a cat in heat. But she doesn't. She's behind the wheel in four lanes of fast paced traffic. She doesn't see the cars. She's thinking, a mantra in her brain, I love him, I love him. Overcome with the need to talk to him, she quickly pulls to the side. Maybe she can send him a text he'll see before he gets home to her. With haste and tears in her eyes, she types, all I want is for you to have happiness. Those are the only words of love she can speak. She knows she must face that big brick wall now, and find her way over it. Alone.