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Wish I Loved Enough to Marry: I was Thinking it was Me
I Was Thinking It Was Me
Wish I loved enough to marry.
Late in life
Or early in being
I resisted both
Cajoled to marry:
No one else will want you.
I don’t want to care
For two houses.
Marry me or move out.
Is that love?
So I married the,
Marry-me-or-move-out-no-one-else-will-want-you
And he beat me until I believed him
And stayed with the bruised eye I got
“playing baseball” though I never picked up a bat
But was battered instead to cruel jokes of
Women are like chicken I like mine…
He left when he sobered into a dry drunk.
Toxicity put my walls up
The next man had to crawl over.
But I was scared for 10 years
Long enough for me to be worn down
Because he didn’t want to care
For two houses
Though it was my refuge
And I agreed
And I scared him to death,
Literally.
Now I host my thoughts
Am I the Narcissist?
Asking, do I do that
Is it me?
I never do that, I’d say
When he’d mention a past failed love
Still rearing its head
Is it me?
A narcissist would ask that.
It’s not about you, Mom,
It’s not about YOU.
But it is if I’m trying not to be a repeater
Of past mistakes.
Or is it my picker
That is the mistake.
Would I pick me to live with?
Would give up the care for two houses
Just to have you lie with me
Make me feel safe
Yet doubting myself
Because I look for validation?
Am I a narcissist damaging people
In my wake?
I’m alone.
I must be doing something
Right.
