“Just five minutes” she determines as she steps through my door.
I smile to myself.
It is never ‘just five minutes’.
Mindlessly she unrobes- careful not to catch her reflection,
Certain that the image will scream insults
at her already statically charged mind.
“Just five minutes.”
It’s easier to believe herself this time.
She’s cold and distracted.
That will pass.
As we begin she methodically paces herself through the routine-
So practiced that it feels like breathing.
By now the atmosphere has liquefied
And silently she releases her fears to me
One by one.
The heat calms her,
Steadies her heart,
Clarifies her mind.
Five minutes becomes ten…
..twenty….
There are stirs from outside.
A door slams,
Somebody cries..
Her mind snaps back to reality.
She begins to remember who she is,
What her life is.
Her husband; her children; her home.
She is so needed and foolish to think that the world could turn without her.
She won’t be so selfish next time.
She chides herself
For losing herself in me again,
So, so easily.
Resenting me for letting her taste a freedom that will never really be hers
She tears herself from my warm envelopment
And throws herself back into the dry cold.
1 comment:
Ev this is so, so beautiful and honest, but so sad!
I felt so much like this after Xander was born, before I started photography. Now that I've got something of my own, I feel like I can cope with the rest of it because I know that soon there will be some more 'me' time.
I wish you came to my activity the other night - you woulda loved it. Let's find something that yours and yours alone!!
Love you Ev.
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