Crumbs of Love

Have you ever felt so strongly about someone that your waking moments are filled with thoughts of them. You're counting down to the next time you can see them in person... touch them... hear their voice... breathe in their scent...

But what if they aren't yours to have?

What if they belong to another?

What if they wear a band of gold on their left hand as a reminder of the vows they made to someone else. Vows of love for another. Vows to cherish that person. Vows to share their life with them. Vows made to someone else and not you.

How do you walk that line? How do you live your life knowing that they can never be yours? You can't have them, but you can't bear to give them up either. Taking the tiny crumbs of time and affection they can spare for you and pretending that it's enough. Trying to believe the voice in your head that's telling you it's ok. That's all you need to get by. You can survive with the bare minimum. You don't need any more.

But you're lying to yourself.

It isn't enough. It's never enough. It's never going to be enough.

Every moment you spend together isn't long enough.

Every touch isn't enough.

Every whispered word of affection isn't enough.

Always skirting around the 'L' word. Feeling it in your heart, but never letting it leave your lips. Pretending that it's ok. You don't need to hear the word spoken to you and you don't need to declare it... but deep down you do. Conversations feel incomplete, moments together feel unfinished, but you don't want to cross that line and make things complicated.

Well, more complicated. It's already as complicated as it could be. Two people in marriages that feel like they've reached their end... children... homes... careers... whole lives built up through decades together. Not something you can just walk away from. But can you honestly bring yourself to stay? Another 20, 30, 40 years feeling trapped in a loveless marriage. Resenting your spouse. Hating yourself for not having the courage to walk away. Convincing yourself it's ok. It's what you deserve for the lies and deceit.

It's what you deserve for cheating.

You never imagined you'd be one of those people you always frowned upon. You always judged them for cheating, for not having the guts to end things before meeting someone else.

But you start to understand that there are different reasons, different circumstances. There are some who cheat for the thrill, or because they don't respect their partners. Some people think they'll never get caught.

Then there are others like you. People who've tried to make things right at home. Awkward conversations have been had, tears have been shed, empty promises that things will change.

But they don't.

The physical intimacy stops. The conversation stops. The feeling of being partners stops.

In its place comes loneliness, resentment, silence. A chasm in the bed where there was once the promise of a future together.

Instead of love and security your heart turns cold, filling with insecurity and losing all self confidence it once held.

If the person who promised to love you forever no longer wants you, why would anyone else? You hide yourself away, making sure you don't take up too much space in the world, dimming your light so that no one notices anything's wrong. So that no one starts asking questions.

Then one day someone starts a conversation with you online. You're lonely, vulnerable, subconsciously searching for another soul like yours. Their messages make you smile, your similarities keep the conversation going. The notifications on your phone bring you hope, a moment away from the reality of your life and you look forward to their messages.

You need them.

A spark flickers deep inside that you thought had been extinguished for good. You want to know everything about them, their hobbies, their interests, their hopes and dreams.

It becomes more than a casual friendship. You start to care for them. You want to comfort them when they're upset, celebrate with them when they succeed. But you can't. Not really, nothing more than a message sent and received.

You want to hold them when they're down but you can't.

You want to kiss away their tears but you can't.

You want to be the person they talk to late at night when things are troubling them, but you can't.

To make things worse you know they're home with someone else. Someone who doesn't see them the way you do. Someone who isn't offering them the comfort that you would. Someone that doesn't take time to listen to their troubles like you would.

And that hurts.

So you offer all the support and care and compassion that you can from afar. And when you're the one who's hurting... When you're the one with tears streaking your face... When all you want is for them to hold you tight in their arms and make you feel safe... you settle for their messages. Their offers of support and care from afar. Because that's all it will ever be.

You arrange to meet. Hoping that that brief afternoon together, holed up in a nondescript hotel room under starched white sheets, will make everything stop hurting. That it will fill your missing physical and emotional needs.

Maybe it does for a little while, probably at least for the journey home to your own partner when the reality kicks back in. This is your life. This is all that you'll ever have. Those stolen moments in a hotel together are just a distraction from the real world. A reminder of everything you're missing in your life.

Instead of making you feel better, it's a reminder of what you no longer have. You want to go places with them, go for coffee, go for a walk holding hands, dance with them in a dark bar, see a show or a concert together. Instead you hear about how they're doing things with their own family. How they're spending time with the person who they vowed to spend their life with, even though they're unhappy.

That hurts too. Torn between wanting them to be happy and wanting them to be happy with you.

Knowing the reality is that you can't be together without uprooting children, causing upset and disruption. Changing the lives of those who depend on you for stability. Knowing that people will judge you and look at you differently if they found out what you'd done. Wanting the happy ever after, but not wanting to take the risk. Living a half life with a fake smile, denying yourself a chance at happiness because you don't feel you deserve it.

But you still want them. You need them.

Desire.

Lust.

Passion.

Things you don't feel at home, but you feel when you're with them.

Safety.

Comfort.

Calm.

The feelings they bring to your life for those brief moments tucked away in a hotel. When all you want to do is touch them and feel close to them. To be around a person who wants that physical contact with you is something people underestimate. Spending your days touch starved and empty. Needing to feel a hand on your shoulder, a caress against your cheek even just knees touching when you sit side by side.

Anything's better than being with someone who puts as much physical distance between you as possible. Someone who vowed to love you forever, but who would rather keep you trapped with them than to set you free and see you happy with someone else.

Deep down you know that it isn't real love. It's infatuation. It's lust. It's desperation. You need someone to make everything better so you pretend.

You shove the feelings down and try not to feel upset and hurt when they're with their partner. You remind yourself that it's 'just sex', there are no feelings involved. You lie to yourself that that's ok. But it's not.

You want the evenings cuddled up on the sofa together, watching old comedies that still make you laugh. You want to feel their arms sliding around you from behind while you're cooking. You want to explore new places together, make memories together, build a life together...

But you can't.

You won't.

Deep down you know that they won't either.