When I met you
I developed an instant liking
Though it was not in a romantic sense
You seemed to be a bit shy
But at the same time, quite friendly
Not to mention, down-to-earth
We got along nicely
And when I met your family
I was impressed
Not due to wealth, class or social status
But because of the fact that they were all very good human beings
With no attitude or airs whatsoever
And they were already okay to accept me as one of their own
Well, we soon started speaking over the phone
On a daily basis
And since we had developed a good understanding
I agreed to marry you
The engagement was a simple affair
But I got the feeling
That we were a cute couple
Especially when we took you on a trip
Right after the engagement
As I mentioned earlier
Though I didn't have any romantic feelings
When I first met you
They soon started to develop
During the period between the engagement and the marriage
I even funded your marriage expenses
Because I trusted you
Never did I imagine
That you would eventually betray my trust
Especially after the date we had in Pondicherry
Of course, COVID19 struck
And our marriage had to be postponed indefinitely
Naturally, you were very upset
I myself was quite depressed
But I thought we could at least talk it out
Instead, you started avoiding me
As well as my family
I let it slide
Since I truly loved you
Eventually, after a week or so, we started talking again
However, things were definitely not the same as earlier
I could sense a lack of enthusiasm from your side
Moreover, you were free to talk only around 9 PM
Though ideally you should have been free throughout the day
Considering you lost your job due to COVID
Something for which you were duly compensated
By my father, who kept sending you money every month without fail
Anyway, I let it slide again
Because I loved you
On the eve of our wedding, I wrote a heart-touching poem
Which was appreciated by almost everybody
Except the person for whom it was written
That is, you
Anyway, I thought things would change
Once the wedding finally happened
However , they didn't
I made many attempts to strike a conversation
But you were only interested in watching your precious serials
I too began to watch them, for your sake
Mind you, I am no fan of serials
But I thought I should make an exception
For my dear wife
However, was I ever dear to you?
You never talked to me on your own
And when I tried to talk to you
You kept repeating the same thing
That we would eventually talk at some stage
I kept wondering and wondering
As to when that "stage" would eventually arrive
Then came the ultrasound pregnancy test
With its shocking results
From then on, you were a changed person
You kept clinging to me
And refused to let me out of your sight
You even forced me
To stop talking to my best friend
And your own best friend did her best
To make me feel as guilty as possible
Blinded by love, as I was
I refused to listen to reason
Believing that you were being discriminated against
Because of your class and caste
When you finally confessed
That you had slept with another guy
You couldn't even look me in the eye
Because of your betrayal, I went through depression
For more than a month
I am not going to waste my time
Discussing the tedious and protracted divorce process
But you took advantage of me
And my frigging autism
You lied to me and cheated me
And I loved you
Yes, it sounds difficult to believe
But I genuinely loved you
And was thus made to suffer
It's time all feminazis take note of this
Rather than jumping into conclusions
And blaming the male whenever there is a divorce
Or even an estrangement
That's all I have to say
Amen!

Boy meets girl.
Girl marries boy.
Baby comes nine months later
— blessed little killjoy.

Boy neglects girl.
Girl henpecks boy.
There'll be hell to pay
for slighting Helen of Troy.

Such an elegant fear,
this alliance, and yet,
when it's held in selfish hands
it merrily dissolves,
turning as tedious
and drab as Shakespeare.

Boy annoys girl.
Girl leaves boy.
It takes a special kind of madness
in building to simply then destroy.

Turn the other cheek
and Judas will kiss that one too,
reduce the bairn's fever
by visiting daddy's igloo.

Weekends are pay toilets
and happy meals,
frustration is a word all too real.
When did antipathy begin to rule?
About the time diplomacy was forced
into playing the fool.

The good times no one catalogues,
this life has gone straight to the dogs.
The Iditarod Trail extends
from Seward to Nome.
Run the race and make believe
the kids are tucked in safe at home.

According to Dorothy
there's no place like it.

He lived down the street from us,
And came to be known as,
The man whose wife left him.
We speculated and surmised.
None but two knew the reason why
He became
The man whose wife left him.

He stopped cutting the grass
And weeding the beds.
He won’t play his uke
On the porch like he did.
From all accounts,
He was a good Dad,
None ever heard him
Explete a foul word.
He worked till retired,
Never was fired.
I'm told he lived a gentle life;
Never started a fight,
Or ran from strife.
That's what I heard
About the man whose wife left him.
Left to his own devices,
The man whose wife left him,
Left.

It has often been said
That true love doesn't exist
But that doesn't stop me from dreaming
After all, I am a romantic
And it's not like I believe in true love
Only because I've read about it in books
Or seen it happen in movies and TV shows
In fact, I've experienced it myself
Not once, but twice
On the first occasion, I was young and naive
Enjoying life to its fullest
And when the love bug bit me
It was one of my happiest moments
I looked forward to every single day
And for the first time in many years
I actually made a concerted effort
To excel in academics
However, to cut a long story short
I missed the bus by a mile
When it came to confessing my feelings
Right, let's come to the second occasion
Technically, it was an arranged marriage
But for me, it was as good as a love marriage
Because, after our engagement
I grew so deeply attached to the girl
That I was blind
To all the red flags thrown at me
Every now and then
Again, to cut a long story short
It eventually ended in a divorce
However, as I've mentioned before
I have not lost hope yet
After all, time is still on my side
However, I need to draw a line somewhere
Firstly, being open and honest
Is an absolute must
I will tell you everything
But I expect the same from you as well
Secondly, I am looking for someone
Who is loyal till the very end
I will be with you
Through thick and thin
But if you cheat on me
Then it's over, once and for all
And finally
You need to accept me as I am
With my pros as well as cons
That includes understanding my autism
And the limitations it places on me
Especially as far as social interaction is concerned
Of course, it works both ways
I am not looking for a perfect person either
After all, if it's perfect
Then it's not true love
And one of the major reasons I still believe in true love
Is that it's full of imperfections
That's what makes it so endearing
And so human

I loved you with all of me and that’s all I could do in the end.

I tried everything I could to make you see my value but you closed your eyes.

So we walked away from each other.
It seemed to be easier for you, as if you weren’t fully there in the first place
While I clung, I clung like I was holding onto a frayed rope
The idea of you, the lifetime I thought we would live together, the future I believed was a reality.

I fell in love with our ideas.
The words we said together through our hot breath.
The sound of the echo of our laughs in a room.

The good times.
I held on to those memories of you even in a **** storm of bad.

For years I called out your name through that same storm
Hoping you would hear my voice and find your way back to me
Believing we would collapse into each other again and everything would be how it was, how you said for so long things would be.
But the thunder was too loud. The clouds covered your face
And the lightening struck the earth hard and severed the ground right between where we stood together.

I loved you like a child loves
Deeply
But doesn’t know how to express.
I loved you with flaws and rough edges and plenty of mistakes
But with kisses and kindness too.

I loved you with poems and songs,
Romance and gestures that were seldom reciprocated.
I felt you on what I believed was a beautifully real level, but it was one sided.
The pain that hides within you I held it and tried to learn how to best kiss it softly.
I understood your intricacies, deeply and tried to sort through the confusion of why you are the way you are. I gave you excuses but I also had expectations.
I tried to be gentle, but I wasn’t always
and for that part of me I apologize.

I am coming to the realization that
A part of me will always be in love with a part of you.
A part of me will always miss the shape of you in my bed and the weight of your hands in mine. How we would giggle like young kids, So in love with love and how you would hold me close in the night.

But I am walking away from the you I thought that you were
And realizing that you weren’t ever really that person to begin with.

I am walking on broken glass away from the idea of us
Every step hurts
But maybe there will be less pain on the other side. Someday.

I still carry the good with me in my pocket
I have to remember you like that too
To remind myself it wasn’t just you,
I was part of the problem too.
Or I won’t be able to make steps away from the same place I’ve been standing in for years.

I have been weighed down by the cinderblock in my throat for as long as I can remember,
The words that never came out
The lead in my feet
My resistance to acknowledge and heal the ugly sharp parts of myself that have cut you.

The weight of the bad
needs to be acknowledged while I hold hands with the good memories too.
that’s the hardest part..

Things were not all bad.
You were not entirely a bad person
nor was I,
There was a time when what we were was beautiful and those versions of us will live in my heart always.
We are just simply two people with
Too much.

How does it feel
To never really know the real you?
Looking in the mirror
Without any sort of recognition
Blank stares and soulless eyes
Who have you become?
You look right through me
As if I am only a speck of dust
Floating down to the ground
While you have found yourself
Through other people
I have lost myself
To the one I thought loved me the most
It’s a tragic love story
Of boy meets girl

My childhood comes in fond waves of recollection.

The holiday seasons of Thanksgiving and Christmas were always my favorite times of the year. Times in which familial bonds felt their strongest. It was so easy and wonderful to be swept up in the whimsical magic of the holidays. Little problems or concerns are forgotten for the sake of repeating another year of well-constructed joy.

I would shiver with glee as we unpacked our three-foot-tall artificial spruce, set it on a stack of boxes covered with sheets, and decorated it with care. Proudly displayed in the window of our single wide trailer. Every night before bed I'd stare at it admiringly.

It ******* glistened.

My mother and I would piece together a jigsaw puzzle on a card table set up in our living room while watching Christmas movies on TV. It was humble, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I recall being upset one year when my father (correctly) guessed that I bought him a Buck Knife for his Christmas gift. He then made a comment suggesting that he didn't need another knife. It crushed me because I thought it was the perfect gift for a man I tried so hard to relate to.

Most of my childhood memories are filled with joy.

Pretending my G.I. Joes inhabited the branches of our softly lit tree. The elf and angel ornaments were either friend or foe and offered either shelter or a diabolical plot of destruction. The angel atop the tree (from my mother's first marriage in the '70s) was the queen that all the other ornaments and soldiers bowed down before.

She was a goddess.

These days I can't help but be brutally honest with myself and acknowledge that the connection to my biological family is barely existent.

There are no jigsaw puzzles.
No Buck Knives.
No glistening lights.
No tree.

Just me alone in an apartment with a glass of whiskey.

There was a time when I carried on the gleeful tradition of the holidays. With my own three children by my side, I carefully placed that angel from the '70s atop the tree.

I think they were as enamored by her as I once was. I could see the innocent thrill in their eyes.

I haven't looked into their eyes for over a year.

The naive childhood excitement of the holiday season is a distant memory. Now, these days on the calendar remind me of things I will never experience again. They gently, but painfully enter like a dagger between my ribs.

The wound is reopened every ******* year.

I look around and see happy little families shopping for holiday meals and gifts as I push my humble cart around the grocery store alone. I imagine them with a crackling fireplace in their living room like I once had; decorating the tree and listening to holiday tunes. Dancing and giggling.

I can't help but wonder if my children are placing that angel atop the tree with their new dad.

The angel their grandmother passed along.

Her broken marriage.
My broken marriage.

And still, that cardboard angel sits atop the tree spreading joy.

She's a goddess.

Time has been
                          lost again.
Falling
into the
cracks in
the floor.

With a pounding heart
I grasp
for the remnants
                              of memories
but they have      slipped
into distant          caverns.

Blurred figures
of my past
constructing walls to
                                   opaque themselves
to mere whispers.