Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

She wished she knew
But she hasn’t got a clue
What she did
When all is said and done
She didn’t even have fun
She’d fooled herself
Believed sex made them closer
He complained continuously
They’d had sex too soon
Like there was a rulebook to follow
On time limits before sex

Plenty of time had passed
In her eyes
Three times a week for four weeks
Six hours each time
Hold hands; tell stories at French Roast,
Walk empty city streets at 3 a.m.
Sometimes, she’d drive him home
He’d hug her tightly, 
Chastely kiss her forehead
Press his groin to hers

Truly she had no clue as to what set him off
Clearly sex made him vulnerable
Afterwards he pushed her away
Picked arguments, and
Communication went astray
He proceeded to insult, belittle and ridicule her
Like her ex-husband used to do

She wrote him a note, “I wish you well,”
He wrote back he wished her the same
“Fundamentally,” he explained,
“I wanted us to get along.
We’re both highly sensitive creatures
And without meaning to
We push each other’s buttons.”
She decided
He was hazardous to her health
Sex for him creates distance, not intimacy
She’d label him
Toxic after sex
If she knew before
What she knows now