Confused.
Helpless.
Tearful.
Torn.
Because of Him.
Men say that WE are confusing.

He comes home again.
Subdued.
Quiet.
Not like he used to be.
And I can only get the same response:
‘I’m fine. Just tired.’

But I can’t get over the feeling
That something else is on his mind.
Why won’t he tell me?
Or am I just playing too well
The role of an oversensitive woman?

Sometimes I just want him to go away.
I want him to fix himself,
Not rely on me, or
Stress me out.
But I don’t want him to leave.
I want him to share his troubles with me,
So I can build the bond between us stronger.

In the words of the wise:
Let it go,
And if it comes back
Its yours.
But If you let it go,
Might it think you threw it away?

A boomerang,
No matter how
Well crafted and true,
Doesn’t return if you break it.
Misperceptions
Can be fatal.

Now I stop typing.
Stop commiting my thoughts
To words.
I shut down my computer.
And lay on my bed,
And wonder what I should do.

I worry myself to sleep again.
Confused.
Helpless.
Tearful.
Torn.
For Him.


 
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