LOVE'S SEASONS

I am stunned at people who could literally hop from one relationship to another; they make things seem so easy like it doesn’t leave any trace of resentment, or pain. I wonder if they ever knew how relationships could turn from one season to another – that it could be all warm and loving, cold and frightening, strong and growing, fresh and nurturing – all at different times, that they’d have to wait and labor long enough to gain a fruitful harvest?   At least by now, this is what I know.

More than ten years of marriage has shown me but one season – all sunny, and bright, and colorful – and I thought that was all there is. Not till I noticed a change – gradual, hardly perceptible – forgivable.  At one point I thought, this was the relationship I dreamt about – ideal, perfect – “quiet” – unfortunately, uneventful – like having a vacation, loving the sand on my feet and the ice cream on my tongue, but NOT remembering what happened after – something like it.  I started missing the fire – not that it has stopped to burn – but that it has transformed into a coal-like state, eternally smoldering, minus the flare. 

I am not one likely to give up.  I have a different spirit – quite unlike that of an ordinary wife's.  I am always brave enough to make my presence felt. I don’t fade into another’s person, not even my husband’s.  I know, I need to do something.  For one, ours is a match made in heaven – a gift from the gods. Whenever I look into his eyes, I still see the rest of my life.   Whenever he holds my hand, I still feel the warmth inside.  And when he comes home and leaves, he kisses me with the assurance that I am his home.  Thus, letting the passion go—just like that-- isn’t anything I’d ever want to do.

And so this is another season that I am just as prepared to weather, even for the next ten years or so.  I am facing it head on, with an accepting heart and open mind. It is enough at the moment that I understand how seasons change, and that the relationship needs this time to grow. 

I’ll let it grow.

TORN

I am not really the materialistic type -- I have few needs, to say the least.  I love things that money can buy, but I value more those that money can't.  But often, whenever i get the chance to reflect, like now -- I start weighing my options, even go to the length of comparing myself to others.  Not that I am dissatified with where I am and with what I've got -- far from that. After all, i also enjoy the nobility of my profession and the glory of my position. I have achieved in a few years what others achieved all their life.  Only, when i see others so much more financially affluent than i am -- when I really feel I have so much more talent and i work thrice as hard -- I ask:  What have I got?  I am still human. Sometimes, i feel i deserve more because I give more.

So, I toy with the idea of leaving everything behind -- all that I have worked for, family included -- for that one shot deal that might be life-changing.  But whenever I see chances unfold, i am left with the same question.  What have I got?  But more than that i ask:  What matters to me more?  Am I ready to give up the comfortable, stable, safe -- albeit, simple and laidback -- life, that my husband and I  created for our children?  Will I be able to compensate time lost and love wasted with all the nice things the world offers?  Worse, will I survive the cruelty of the world out there?

I am torn. 

OPPOSITE POLES

Over the last 12 years, I don’t ever recall any big fight or argument with my husband.  Well, except for the two trivial bickerings – not even two-way, as I remember having delivered a multi-lingual declamation piece, instead.   The first time, I acted like any other young wife – impulsively shrieking at his inability to comply with an unwritten code on curfew.  I learned a lesson the hard way:  my own family, mother included, would have picked him over me.  That was insane but, who wouldn’t love a man like that?  The second brought both of us to tears.  I cannot tell how I did that (It’s a trade secret!).  But another lesson learned:  I couldn’t bear to see the one I love most, and who loves me best, shed tears for my sake.  That’s devastating!  And so, after learning all these –tough ones, to my mind – I resolved to never hurt him again ever or else I hurt myself more.  I love him too much – that is beyond question. 

Perhaps, I have loved my new roles – a wife and a mother – that I never again had any issues with marriage and family.  Or maybe, it is true what they say, I am lucky to have such a man for a husband.  People say we are perfect for each other.  Two entirely different, nearly opposite poles attracting each other and meeting halfway – both in mind and spirit.  At least, that is what people say, and that is what we both live with.  Whether such is a blessing or a curse remains to be tested.  But at this point, we are both certain, that our love for each other – more than our inherent communication skills – verbal and non-verbal -- will see us through. 

At times, I also wonder whether we have apprehensions we don’t talk about – because we both assume we are too intelligent to understand.  I suppose, we both see each other as faultless, and we don’t want to talk about faults.  But I am not faultless – that I am so sure about.  Perhaps, he is.  I have minor concerns I want to talk about, questions I want to ask, worries I need to express.  Only, I know the responses to my concerns, I know the answers to my questions and I know how to resolve my own worries.  So why talk about them and bother him?  That is a predicament I have to contend with.  That is my lot.  For his part, I really do not know.  He does not really say much.  That is how I learned to read minds.  I have learned to decode his vocalics & kinesics. 

And so the other night, his retort astounded me.  It’s not such a strange phenomenon.  Any wife might not have noticed it even.  Any wife would have dismissed that.  Unfortunately, I am not just any wife.  When his voice registered a higher pitch, and a faster duration, and was more flexible than usual – it gave me the signal.  What was that?  Of course, it was my fault – whose would it else be?  I just couldn’t help being me – so irritating, with my childish stance – but, hey –I’ve been like that all my life.  It was the shortest fight ever in history I guess, not more than a minute, as after I uttered my wisecrack in straight English – we both kept quiet. 

He said sorry, later –  it’s  always like that --later, when I have kept my cool or else I’ll write a book of never before heard conversation beginners, enders and rejoinders in cathartic and phatic language! He never explained his apology.  I didn’t ask why, either.  It’s over, anyway.  I am not the type to go into the details and waste time over anything as trivial as that.  Though that one earned for me a whole body massage for an hour, it kept me wondering what was that about?  It was nothing, I guess – I don’t over think, I don’t over analyze – this has what kept the marriage sound and smooth and loving and perfect.  But on second thought, is it so? Come what may:  our love will defy both heaven and hell.

GAZING FROM MY WINDOW

Today I woke up thankful that I am married to a nearly perfect man, and blessed with fantastic kids. The joy sprung from an unusual dream, so atypical that I didn’t know where it came from. I have this nasty habit of interpreting my dreams (and those of others!), even went overboard previously by compiling a dream journal. Jokingly, friends call me “Madam Babes: The Psycho at the Mall, “an allusion to “The Psychic at the Mall,” a rather intriguing booth in one of the local malls here in Legazpi City. Well anyway, I took the time to give my dream a thought, and try as I may, I just couldn’t quite make sense of it at once – so unfortunate for one who has always been fascinated with what goes on in the subconscious. I’m weird, I know.

I woke up a sullen forty year old, accomplished but well, yeah – single. Not single again, really single, wondering where life has taken me, and what have I done with my life. I felt an intense sadness, my heart beating slow—it was sore. My mother was prodding me to marry. To my mind, where the hell do I get a man at forty? At this age, all marriage materials are taken, or if they hang around, doubtless they are gay. But, a dutiful daughter, I said yes when she suggested that I marry the man she remembered. I couldn’t break my mother’s heart and so I could not bring to her the disheartening truth that this man she referred to has been married for a time. Of course, that is short of saying that I didn’t marry because I loved him. For now, I could only look at him from a distance. And so literally, I would gaze at him from my windows, wondering what-if or, what could have been.

It’s been quite a time that I have been sad – I mean, sad as in sad – so, the feeling was burning and overwhelming. (I panic whenever there’s throbbing; I don’t like heartaches.) A gentle touch of a hand on my knee brought me back to my senses. It took me a few seconds to realize it was a dream. I instinctively felt the warmth and affection of my husband and two girls, quite distinct from the intensity of aloneness where I just came from. I dismissed it, nevertheless determined to find its hidden message later in the day, as I had to get ready for work.

Now as I write, I am forced to premise my interpretation on the widely accepted notion that dreams are reflections of inner conflict that I have failed to resolve in the conscious level. Had I not awakened, I might have had confronted the issue right there in my subconscious (because in the oddness of my person, I have found a way to stay lucid even in my sleep). But the dream is over, and right now I have to rely upon a metaphor.

But surely, I know the message: I have unresolved conflicts, and my subconscious tells me to address them. At 38, I am eager to start a new phase in my life which most people say begins at 40. But before a new life, first I have to let go – really let go – of things, people and events that I have lost but still hold dearly in my heart. I have not completely let go of all my anguish and hurt. I learned to compartmentalize. I kept them tucked away somewhere in my heart. True, I didn’t allow my emotional baggage to run my life, but I have allowed “these ties from pulling strings” somehow. My experiences profoundly affected my person; the people I lost-- permanently or not – made me lonely and left a hollow in my heart. I often wonder why I had to be left behind. I once in a while revisit my pain to repeatedly ask myself why and what if. I wished I could have done more.

One thing is certain though; I face a bright prospect – if I could finally stop “gazing from my window.” I must keep away from the distant. The past is gone and cannot be relived, except in the imagination. My husband, my two girls – they are my reality. They give me so much love, and I couldn’t commit the mistake of abandoning my now for what-if. My mind often takes me to unknown places. I have always loved the mysterious, the mystical, the unfamiliar. But then again, that is not what life is about. Life is the here and now – and this is where and when I must live.

WIFE CRY

I struggled for your attention. I fought to have ALL of you back. But to see you juggle life and distort your own sense – for what? for me? – that’s NOT what I wanted.

*****

When I said “I didn’t want to live out the pressures of your life,” it wasn’t an expression of non-support. I meant it as I said it. I have always been a book hoping to be read. But this time, I speak plainly.

*****

I didn’t intend to be mean when I cried, “I want a life of my own.” I actually meant, “I want you to have a life apart from mine.”

*****

I have been your world. I don’t resent that. It is all that a woman could ever want. BUT don’t take that as an obligation. You don’t have to.

*****

It pains me to see you want to take care of me, like you were wont to, when we know, we both HAVE to do other things. That is the price of being more than ordinary.

*****

Honestly, it hurts me more to feel I’m getting in the way. Please don’t make me feel vulnerable. I have always been able to take care of myself.

******

Relive the times. I WAS never powerless. Perhaps, I only enjoyed being your princess for the last 12 years. But believe me, I can still be that person you fell for, in the first place.

*****

Live with it. I want it. I have so decided it to be so. You live your dreams. You are capable of becoming who YOU want to be.

******

You remain faultless in my eyes – everything anyone could ever want. The little things I said I missed, those are trivial – I am learning to live without them, without harping on you.

*****

This is my share of coping with the inevitable change of what may be the last lap of life. My little girl says “I am the BEST mom there is in the whole CITY…” I remain to be so.

*****

Finally, I am proud to be the supportive wife. I am comfortable with my own gains and merits. I’ll grow old with you wherever life may LEAD us.