A Little More of Life Gone By

Lucky guy. I have a few stories, but no poetry published.

I need to thank you all.  I received some very nice compliments on my … um … earlier poetry and even several agreements that I should show more.  So, I have several things on my plate now.  First, there are about 5-6 more posts of this early poetry.  Second, I promised to expand my FSF selection “Charmed” into a full story.  Finally, I still have Friday Fictioneers and Five Sentence Fiction to keep going on a current basis.  Well, that makes me busy on here and that’s excellent!

I shared that early poetry and I, of course, shared the easy stuff.  There are a few that were written that I call my “dark” works.  I had broken up with someone who I had tried very hard to stay with.  I should have left earlier, looking back, but I didn’t.  She wasn’t in love with me and the post-stroke me would’ve said, “see you” long before.  It hurt me and caused me to view relationships much differently after that.  I guess I was always waiting for “the other shoe to fall”, which is even funny after my “shoe” story in my second marriage.  I thought I had written about that, but couldn’t find it in my posts.

Near the end of my second marriage, my wife was not doing much to help things.  She had a lot on her plate, but so did I.  We went to a counselor to help her daughter.  As part of that process, my wife and I were asked to come a few times so the counselor could see the environment.

After a couple of those sessions, the counselor asked me if there was anything Diane could do to help us stay together.  I said a good beginning would be to take the 4-5 pairs of shoes she constantly left in the downstairs living room up to the bedroom closet.  Diane agreed.  I thought, “simple thing.”

The very next day began with one pair of shoes and by the next appointment there were, again, 4-5 pairs of shoes downstairs.  The night before the appointment, Diane was upstairs in the bedroom.  I was downstairs.  I threw all the shoes, one at a time, up the stairs next to the bedroom door.

That next day, the counselor asked how the “project” went.  I told her.  Diane said, “I am just too tired to get the shoes upstairs when I get home.  Deciding that there was one last thing we could try, I said, “that’s not a problem.  I will clean out the closet next to the front door and move her shoes down there.  She can just walk in and put the shoes in the closet.”  This was readily agreed to.

When we got home I did just that.  Over the next week, I now found 4-5 pairs of shoes on the bedroom floor instead of the living room floor.  The night before the appointment, Diane was reading in the living room.  I, being in the bedroom, threw all the shoes, again one at a time, down the stairs.

It was at this point I fully realized that she was doing this all intentionally or, at the very least, subconsciously, and did not want to get back together.  So, you see, “waiting for the other shoe to fall” is a very appropriate phrase to me.

However, I did not always feel that way.  Here is a poem which I find very difficult to put on here because it tells how I felt when we got married.  As I said last post, I do not always feel the same way as when I wrote the poem.  There are some grammar errors, too.

Diane

By Scott L Vannatter

6/1/93

   Lying awake some evenings while the night settles in,

I look at the gift sleeping next to me, and I am amazed.

I think back on the misery and heartache of growing up and

of growing old, and I am confused.

I feel the sheets shift softly up and down, the rhythm of

your breathing, and I am breathless.

I hear in my mind your voice and heart speaking as one to

to me, and I am happy.

I smell the perfumes of you, your hair, your breathe, your

spirit, and I am home.

I think ahead of our years remaining, the joys and sorrows

to come, and I am content.

For you are Gods gift to me, a match without equal.

You are my comfort, an assurance of tranquility and love.

You are my breathe of life, fresh and clear.

You are my happiness, my song of joy and love.

You are my home, my place of security, trust, and acceptance.

You are my contentment, that which overshadows all tensions.

You are my life, my love, my all . . . you are Diane.

________________________

Namaste,

Scott

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Comments

  • behindthemaskofabuse  On May 28, 2013 at 6:41 pm

    All i can think is there was deeper issues there than shoes. sorry you went through that, congrats on your publishing and the poem was lovely.

    Like

  • Becki Duckworth  On May 28, 2013 at 4:57 am

    Scott, My first ex husband used to leave all his shoes at the front door. After months of asking him to put them away… I took all the shoes and flung them out the door every direction I could throw and as far as I could throw….. Into over 3 feet of snow, we were living in Illinois. LOL… it was really funny. He even laughed and after gathering up his shoes/boots he said point made. the poem to Diane is beautiful… our marriage broke up also.

    Like

  • Larry  On May 27, 2013 at 12:28 am

    Diane sure was passive-aggressive regarding those shoes. Sorry you had to go through that, but it makes for a funny story!

    I really like reading these old writings of yours. They are a window to your past. I like getting to know you better. Thanks!

    Like

    • kindredspirit23  On May 27, 2013 at 12:54 am

      Well, good, because there should be a few for awhile. 🙂
      Scott
      PS- you are right; she was.
      I used to be passive-aggressive, but it has changed a lot.

      Like

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