I really went back and forth with this entry. I don't believe in shaming anyone. That is not my intent at all. When you are in the same circle as a writer, I guess you can very quickly become a muse, as so many of my wonderful girlfriend's have found out.
As I lay in bed last evening, listening to the soft beating of his heart under my left ear, I was unsure of what I truly wanted to write about. But I knew I would write.
We are raising children together, all of us. And while we all have moments that are not so proud, I know we are attempting to do what we think is right.
Another time in my life, I would have approached this subject a little differently, but I suppose with age and maturation comes a sense of grace and control. And yes, we all still struggle with those two words, even in our thirties.
For weeks I knew someone had been through here. I have a strong intuition, one that often leads me to the truth. I don't know how I knew, but I could feel you here.
I thought about you perusing through my home unwelcome and unannounced. And while it bothered me that you used a child to do it, it really made me a little bit sad for you. You see, I understand that I have a part of "him" you will never again get. And I can see why your curiosity must have taken control and you made a conscience decision to stroll through every floor of my home.
Have you ever traveled abroad, I don't think you have, although I am mistaken quite a bit (it's a learning process to be able to admit)...have you? You see when you visit foreign tourist destinations, they don't always have tour guides that speak English. So they outfit you with a little MP3 player that will explain the history. I thought to myself last night, maybe that is how I should approach this subject. Instead of being angry or hurt, I should maybe offer you a guided tour so that you understand the sights you took in.
When you parked at the bottom of my driveway and came through the passage way, did you notice the pergola on your right? He built that for me the May before last. All I did was mention interest in one, and in a week he was out there with tools in hand, and before I knew it, we were enjoying meals and drinks on beautiful summer evenings.
The basement was probably a mess, it usually is. My laundry, the kids laundry, papers, boxes from the shop...I know, I know. But you see, we work extremely hard to have the life we have, and if a room goes un-kept for a few days, we've learned it's just a part of a bigger puzzle. Did you at least pat my little dog's head? She is so good. Such a kind thing. Sweet to her family, always alerting us when she thinks there is danger. Did she bark at you? It's okay, she barks at everyone.
At the bottom of the stairs there is a picture. It is a picture that I drew, and he framed. Again, without me asking. I simply came home and it was a surprise. He loves that picture.
I think there is an Eiffel Tower in every room of the house, save the boys rooms. It's a "thing" I have. They have been given to me by friend's over the years. Tiny metal replicas of the place I eventually will make it to. I took French. It's a beautiful language. One of my best friend's sent me a gorgeous pair of couture heels a few years ago right from Paris' streets.
At the top of the stairs there is a message board, and depending on which way you turned, you might have even ran your fingers across the pictures of me and my boy. He's sweet. A child that is so filled with love for his mother he would do anything for her. You would understand that. I at least know that. He is a boy that is hard to get to know, and somehow, HE did get to know him. They have a bond that is strong and quiet. Like the two of them, I suppose. Did you notice how the boy in the pictures held on to his mother?
The living room might have been a little messy too. Again, the giant picture of Paris above our couch probably struck you. That too, was a gift. The very first piece of decor that he and I bought together, well that and the geometrical rug in the center of the room.
Was my bedroom door open or shut? Sometimes the dog will push it open so she can nap in our bed. The blue bedspread is beautiful, isn't it? That too, another surprise I came home too after working a 12 hour day. He even washed everything before putting it on our bed. A huge picture of the London bridge hangs above. It nearly takes up the entire wall! The bedroom usually stays well kept. But you know how he is about that, don't you?
The kids floor, oh man, what a disaster. Boys will be boys! We have both just agreed that minimal nagging is enough to help them tidy up. I mean, boys just keep messy spaces sometimes.
You see, I guess really, what I should be doing is thanking you. After the initial shock wore off, and I battled sleep last night. Because at first it felt a little bit like Rebeccah DeMoray in The Hand That Rocks The Cradle...but I know it's not. So here it is. Thank you.
You helped mold the man I am in complete love with today. He is so kind and patient and strong. There isn't a night since we met that he hasn't held me as I drifted off to sleep, unless of course one of us were out of town. There isn't a day that has passed that he hasn't made me feel completely loved, respected and adored. He doesn't intentionally hurt me. He doesn't say nasty things. We don't yell when we disagree, we compromise. We've both learned a lot from our past and failed relationships. I can't give him all of the credit, because I love him just as fiercely. It's passionate and patient. It is fire and ice. When you think of us, you can picture the black and white yin/yang sign. Because we blend perfectly, ironically enough. I am so devoted and committed to him that I see no other. He will be the man that I love until my very last breath leaves my body. Our future while unknown, is exciting and positive.
We have worked really hard at life, but loving each other? That came easy. It was absolute serendipity, our meeting a couple of years ago.
I truly do hope that you have found peace, and that whatever you were seeking in our home, you found.
Because from now on the doors will remain locked.
The New Wife.
Tiffany writes for The Hive Publications. She is a world renowned fiction author, as well as writing spiritual excerpts in her free time. All publications belong to The Hive Publications.
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