Dear Steven

Dear Steven,

I know I owe you some kind of response
but I am at a loss for words.
Yeah, me
Wordless.

I left our conversation without answering
because I was
blown. away.

You were a first love.
A part of me will always love you.
Yes, reconnecting has
reminded me of
our attraction,
HA
A polite word.

We have inhibition in common
always so wild
it was too easy to slide into
a virtual banter
of lovely inappropriate
tease.

I looked
Really I did
In retrospect I saw
what I wanted to see.
You were not free
to talk nasty with me.
I saw the word
divorce.
I swear I did.
And you know I am
free.

You know I dream
about you
You know I want you.
If I was a different person
I would be on a plane
to fight
for your heart.

I am not that person
And your heart sports a
no vacancy sign.

I looked today.
Stalking Facebook
for clues on what I
must have missed.

Yes.
In A Relationship.
I missed that.
Maybe.
Or ignored it.
It could have been “just a girlfriend.”

A Hammer in bed?
Such hubris.
For the record, hammer is not capitalized.
Unless you are MC Hammer.
And you are not.

I’m so deeply embarrassed that I nearly
Skype sexted
With you.
Not because I’m shy, oh no.
I went first, as you recall.
It was the mortification a few days later
When you said two words that
stopped me frozen.

That made me
angry
upset
guilty
ashamed
remembering too many things
I never like to think about.
Ever.

“My wife.”

What
the
fuck?

Your WIFE?!

Two husbands,
two douchebags cheated on me.

It’s such a tawdry word.
But it is what it is.
Cheating. Cheater. Cheated.
Brought me to my knees
like an unexpected sucker punch
deep in my gut
therapy therapy therapy
Nothing but time took away the pain
of betrayal

Is there PTSD for the cheated?
I think yes, maybe, perhaps.
Because my ruined heart is still
shattered into broken pieces

My happily ever after
married his affair.
You remember him
My longtime husband who refused
to let me have Bente Kitty
when you moved away.
A sign, perhaps.

So, you see, my dear Steven
how could I wreak that pain
on another woman
The shame, sorrow, pain that took me down for so long?
Ruining any hope or chance I had
at a new love.

Take my advice. Please.
1. Don’t.
2. If you really must do it, you should not marry.
3. If you choose to ignore 1. and 2. never, never, never, never, ever tell.

Yes, I meant it truly when I said
part of me will always love you.
This will never change.

It is me that has changed
For better or for worse.

Love,
Dori

All Photos ©Dori Owen All Rights Reserved

Dori Owen

Dori Owen blogs on ArizonaGirlDiary.tumblr.com, is a columnist on FeminineCollective.com, a contributor/editor for The Lithium Chronicles, created the Facebook page Diary of an Arizona Girl, is an author on AskABipolar, was featured in the books FeminineCollective RAW&UNFILTERED VOL I and StigmaFighters Vol II, and is a zealous tweeter as @doriowen. She's a former LA wild child who settled into grownup life as a project manager, collecting an MBA and a few husbands along the way. Dori spent her adult years in Southern California, with a brief stay in Reno, and has now returned to where she ran away from in Arizona. She is a shown artist, writer, and her favorite pastime is upcycling old furniture she finds from thrift stores. She lives with her beloved rescued terrier, Olivia Twist, and the cat who came to visit but stayed. The love of her life is her grown son in Portland, Oregon who very much resents being introduced after her pets. But she she does love him the most.

10 Comments
  1. My Inner Chick

    **Cheating. Cheater. Cheated.
    Brought me to my knees
    like an unexpected sucker punch
    deep in my gut
    therapy therapy therapy**

    Dori, this is a “WOW” piece. x from MN.

Write a Comment