The Uncoupling

(a story of unrequited love, is  there any other?)

by

Kim L Sellers

Forever is a long time to love anyone; sooner or later, you must get out, and it doesn't matter how, you just have too; it’s a case of preserving your sanity, maybe hers, too; because neither of you can look the other in the eye anymore; that's the last thing you want to do.

It was not so long ago; not so long, that you’d forget the hot you felt, when you touched her deep inside; when you told her how much you loved her, needed her wrapped tight around you, strangling you; because being in her arms, was all you had ever dreamt it would be.

Forever is a long time to love anyone; she overlooked, the first time you didn't fire-up her furnace, the way she wanted you, too; she needed your metal because it reaffirmed her power, and sense of worth; but you turned away from her, because withdrawing, validated your power—your worth—your justification, for pretending to go through the motions.

So, now you both speak, only when Spoken too, while still gorging yourselves, on what you think the other is thinking; the passive man—the wild woman, pushing each other’s buttons, as though Pavlov had taken temporary residence, and was sharing the living room, with the pink elephant, which was already a permanent fixture.

Then, in the middle of all the insanity, you notice her sticking Post-Its, on possessions of mutual interest; claiming them for herself; soon, you’re both sticking Post-Its, willy-nilly, throughout the house, and even worse, when friends visit; sticking Post-Its on them, too; until, suddenly, she moves into the front bedroom; leaving you to wonder, if all the heartache was worth losing your mind over?

A month later, when you're sitting on “YOUR couch;” she places her wine, on “HER table;” she look’s tired and worn, and you can’t help but hear, the furnace rattling between her legs, and you wonder, what had attracted you to her, in the first place?  Was it her blue eyes?  Or, the river of Canadian Club, and water, that you both drank from more often than you'd like to remember but, you really don't care; all you want is out and, you can't wait until the lists are Notarized.

It’s only fair to say, that you wondered, now, and then, if this uncoupling was the result of just a bad month, two; or even a bad year or two; but it’s not important; all you both want, now, is to be free of one another; because—Forever is a long time, to love anyone.

The end.