The thing that hurt most
was no touch,
no talk, no intimacy.
Or acknowledgement of my pain.
That coloured my everything grey,
and made my efforts feel futile.
Made our life seem fake.
Pretend.
You settled into a life
of grey subsistence.
When I wanted
all the colours.

I took a walk this morning
in the cooler air
before the hot summer day
kicked in.

Seeking peace
and finding some today.
Surrounded by butterflies,
beautiful golden cloud,
reminder of the joy of life.

Startling a lizard,
chirping birds,
hearing the kookaburra call.
Kangaroo and joey
resting in the shade.

Golden butterfly
waiting on my front door.
Wings flapping a slow rhythm
like a beating heart,
beating for me.

The advice was
'Support him,
try to help him.
He needs sleep when he’s tired
(even if it’s all day).'
'Try to talk to him,
he’s hurting inside.
Help him,
he needs you.'

I believed that,
and I tried.
I tried until
I felt almost gone
My words disappeared!
A glass pane formed
between myself and the world.

I didn't know
I could go too far.
Give too much support.
No-one says that,
who would have thought?

I didn’t know
support can become a crutch.
He could settle,
no need to improve.
Who would have thought?

Depression is real.
It just doesn’t mean
that you are first always,
or that you don't need to try
or talk to your spouse.
That was just -
taking advantage.

What are you wanting?
I’d like to move on
Why are you wanting
Another one.
My heart does miss you
There’s a hole where you were
You awakened my spirit
And now you’re not there.
You’ll answer a call
And tell me you miss me
You’re still in your home
But dreaming of life with me
What am I wanting?
I need this resolved
I can’t do it illicitly  
That bothers my soul.
Almost a year on
And I still feel you with me
I want you to stand up
Take on responsibility.
Make your decisions
Make them out loud
Love me or leave me
Please decide now.
And if you decide,
That you will try loving me
Please know I’m a prize
I wont be so easy
I’d be willing to try
But not throw it in for you
You’d need to earn trust
And that may be tough to do.

When he left me
his soul was gone for me
and his body was still there.
His anger was new
his distance was new
and his lack of touch too
I was so confused.
I was pregnant, then a mum.
Untouched, the silence dumb.
Bereaved, intense loss
Husband won't touch me
there's only frost.
How do I even speak of this?
he's doing the chores
but there's such an abyss.
Two years more
and I realise
depression brought
this demise.
Fool, it took me too long
to understand what was wrong
but this knowledge never did
bring back his song.
He remained, gone.

I ask myself
Are you the one?
If you are the one,
then let us end this madness.
Let us be together.
My problem is,
I’m not certainly sure.
What if the ‘madness’ ends and creates
more.
Oh the storm that could be unleashed.
I miss you.
I don’t know that you would be able to live up to
What I need you to be
but perhaps you’d forge your own path.
Would having love, touch, talking
sustain us?
There are waves of longing, needing
Forced space eases these feelings
eventually.
But is it worth it?
Are the feelings real?
I think they are
I just don’t know
if they’re trustworthy
Or if my ability to walk away
without looking back
is something I should remember
and hang onto,
to avoid you
putting your eggs here
and for them to then be broken.