Hello, or not.


I think of him and smile.

I call to say hello and such, he answers, but is not present.  This feels weird.  I wonder what is wrong; if I’ve somehow done something wrong.  Next, an awkward pause and then he mentions that he has picked up his son.

It seems that statement was code for “I can’t talk right now” or “I can’t be myself at the moment” or “I don’t want him to know how I feel about you” or 4 billion other things or none of them.  The call ends with an “Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

I continue to play out each of the 4 billion scenarios in my head, distracted from work and life for the rest of the day which is now 14 hours after the event.  That, folks, is the story of how my feelings were hurt this morning.  Likely, unbeknownst to him at all.

Welcome to life behind the wall!




It recently came to my attention that I have been consciously or unconsciously so protective of my space that I may have inadvertently hurt his feelings.

I was trying to explain the layout of my laundry room in regard to the gas line to the fireplace in my house.  He said, “Well, I may just need to see it.  You know, I’ve never been in your basement.”  I truly felt puzzled.  I then realized that I have been dating this man for over a year and he has not seen the basement, or the house at all, really.  A quick loop in the kitchen and backyard once.  Oh, and that visit to the bedroom one other time.

I let him in my space behind the wall tonight.  Instead of feeling nervous, I felt strong.  Watching him see my home, was intoxicating.  He was looking and learning…not judging.  In the end, he helped break down the wall a bit without even knowing it.  And, the cold, ignored fireplace that has been dormant for almost 6 years was safely bright and warm with light and flame…and hope.


Hope Falls


Here is my heart: wide open. 
Here are my words: awaiting response. 
The overwhelming noise of silence: rebuilds the wall. 
Hope falls, time slows, the air grows thick again.  
So tired. 

Ouvre la Porte


I knew it was trouble the moment he opened the car door for me.

I mean, what’s his true agenda with all this door-opening and being polite bullshit?  Is he actually just being polite?  Is he trying to impress me so that I fall in love, he can then show his true colors of being a complete jackass, and I allow it because I’m invested in the relationship?   Was he simply raised by parents who taught him to have good manners?

Here’s a question:  will I ever come out from behind the wall long enough to enjoy having someone open a door for me?