Charyl Says

There Are People…
September 4, 2015, 4:34 pm
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There Are People…

Every weekend I get a little piece of my heart ripped from my chest.  I bear the burden alone and then I come back to emptiness.

There are people who like every picture I post and reply with an encouraging word.

There are people who offer help on bills when I’m falling short.

There are people who want to fool around and hang out when it suits them.  Nothing more.

There are people who want to get together for a movie or whatever else every few months to catch up and talk about the superficial things of life; sometimes purely out of pity, sometimes because they simply have nothing better to do.

There are people who ask how things are going… to be polite at best, nosy at worst.

There are people—unhappily married—who crave the attention they think I can give them, but hide it from the rest of the world because they’re too afraid and they know it’s not right.

There are people who wish I lived closer because they’ve always wanted to be with someone like me… someday… when they’re ready for all that.

There are people who wish I would be with them not because they love me, but because they need someone to take care of them.

There are people—quite a few—who already have spouses and best friends and significant others and families at home that message every so often to check in and tell me they’re praying for me.  They mean well.

I am thankful for them all.

But where is my sanctuary?  Where is my partner, my best friend—the one I can come home to?  Where is the person I can count on to feel safe sharing a deeper, more intimate connection; the person with whom I can cry and share joy and travel through the years?  My life is half over and I’m tired of “someday.”

You begin to realize that no one really wants you… at least not that much.  There will always be something or someone more important.

No matter what I do to keep myself busy, to keep social, every weekend I come home from my daughter to silence, missing another little piece of my heart with no way to replace it.  Eventually it will be gone.




Mother’s Day
May 13, 2013, 7:35 pm
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Mother’s Day
I’m sure you sat with me
as I sat alone;
watching the other mothers
with their children and their partners,
fussing about in the pews,
in their Sunday Best.
Tiny babies, hugs,
arms draped around shoulders.
My own children in another state,
with another parent.
My own mother—your daughter—still at home,
busy tending to my disabled father.
Not many others to speak of.
The church had the children
pass out flowers—
long-stemmed pink carnations—
one for each woman.
Mine was handed to me by a little boy
I didn’t know.
I drove out to the cemetery
on the edge of town
and put it on your grave.
For what use is love
when it is only received
and never given?
The one moment that day
I wasn’t strong enough
to keep myself from crying.
Then I went back home,
and waited for a call
that never came.
~Charyl Miller

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