The Divorced Woman and the Single Man… An Adult Conversation

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By: Sapphire and Demez

Her Words

“I saw the pieces of my marriage falling apart 2 years ago and as much as I’d like to think I could’ve prevented it; the truth of the matter is that it would’ve always ended this way.”

When I first started writing this I searched incessantly for definitions, synonyms, phrases or anecdotes but came to the conclusion that there seems to be a lack of vocabulary or feelings that can properly and intelligently describe that monumental “AHA” moment in your life when you realize that your world as you knew it, as you planned and hoped it would be is not only over but now you must find a way to save face, to repair mental, physical and intellectual self and learn to live and possibly love again.

His Words

Women are the ones that are supposed to worry about their biological clock. Women are the ones that are supposed to worry about how much weight their gaining or whether or not they’ll get a call back. That’s what you tell yourself when you’re a single man, when you hit 30 and every woman you date seems to fall by the wayside. When things start out so perfectly but even in those perfect moments you know something will go wrong. It scares you, it shakes you to your core. Is it me? Is it society? Do I not make enough money? Am I not attractive? You question things that you’ve never questioned before.

Her Words

Hindsight is a baldheaded blonde bitch I swear, but If I’m brutally honest with myself I knew the end was near, but no matter how much I mentally prepared myself, none of it could’ve braced me for the severity of the devastation that was done to my heart. I felt as if I betrayed myself by allowing my heart to dictate what path would be our source of happiness because the “signs” were all there but I accepted them in faith that our togetherness would outweigh our lack. I don’t love easily at all and I can count on my fingers how many guys I’ve been ecstatic about or developed any emotional connection with at all, so for me to even be in this position to experience this pivotal moment, crucified me to my core.

I could calculate the month, day, time and hour when I stopped being truly happy and it was eating away at me; I had the medication and an ulcer to prove it. I drank and submerged my feelings to the brink of impossibility and yet I could feel myself mentally unraveling. I hated the person I’d become; this yelling, arguing, uncontrolled maniac who couldn’t find a way to give two fucks because I’d given everything that was in me. I was empty and depleted beyond measure and no amount of anything seemed to fill the void inside me. It’s only in this tour of my fall from grace can I explain why being happy is my only choice.

His Words

The dates start to run together, you forget the names of women you kissed. Remember the exact moments you knew she wouldn’t call you back or you wouldn’t call her back. Sleep becomes a memory because how do you sleep when you’re always sleeping alone? Ambien and Tylenol PM become crutches. Hennessy and wine become bedmates. I spend more time in my mind than I do in reality. You log on Facebook and see men that were the biggest players in the world getting engaged and having babies. You see women that you used to talk to every morning and every night happy and in love. Happiness becomes something you just used to know.

I can remember the month, day, time and hour when I stopped being happy and started hoping. I can remember the month, day, time and hour when that hope turned to fear. When that fear turned to emptiness. I want to be happy, I want to be one of those people that are single and living the life but the void… The void becomes a black hole I feel like no one can understand. She said she loved him and not me, that’s what she told me. That killed a bit of me. She said that she could carry his child and not mines because she knew with him she’d always have security. Knowing that broke me. How do you find happiness when you feel broken?

Her Words

I won’t lie and say that I ached for a man, for his time and comfort but I damn sure want every minute and moment of it. Thumbing through my list of exes is never an option and the sheer idea of dating unnerves me especially with my severely bruised ego. I enjoy meeting new people but it seems as if most are so eager for their next orgasm that they don’t realize that most mind shattering moments come from having a real connection. That’s what I miss most. I miss smelling “his” scent all over me. I miss those wet sloppy kisses for no reason; having someone to be goofy with and knowing that they see me for all that I am and aspire to be.

I miss being held and touched in ways that only “he” knows because “he” discovered them and most of all I miss “his” weight. I relish the thought of “him” lying next to me and finally knowing what it means to be truly happy but until then I’ll accept truly satisfied for the moment. I do miss having a permanent “him” in my life but I take solace in knowing that my happy ever after hasn’t come to an end because one chapter of my life is over. If what they say is true, if you really do attract what’s inside of you, then I can’t wait to see what manifests because I’m happier than I‘ve been in a very, very long time and I realized that doesn’t mean that my world wasn’t affected; it means that I’m truly ready to start healing and taking care of me.

His Words

The smell of a woman’s skin when she’s first out the shower, that scent lives with me. It’s a mix of heat and sweetness and wetness that invades every sense I have. Watching her sit on the bed and rub lotion on her ankles, thighs, arms, and chest. Watching her inhale and exhale. I miss slowly pulling the towel away and rubbing my nose along her navel, her inner thighs. I miss the heat that comes from what’s between her legs. I’ve had sex, I’ve fucked women but I miss making love. There isn’t much that can compare to being inside of a woman you love and not caring if she gets pregnant. Not caring if she’s sick or tired or hurt because you know you’re going to be there regardless.

I miss sitting at my computer writing and having her come sit o my lap or hug me from behind. That look on her face when she bites her lip and sits on my weight. Getting her rhythm and moving like she’s a jockey trying to win the Kentucky Derby. There’s these moments where the memories feel so real and reality seems like it’s worlds away. In those moments I could have given up, I could have settled but instead all I wanted was more. All I want is more. My happiness will come, I will find the person that will help me find my happiness.

3 thoughts on “The Divorced Woman and the Single Man… An Adult Conversation

  1. Reblogged this on demezw and commented:

    We live in a society where we’re supposed to move on. You lose your job, move on, you get divorced, move on, someone dies. I’m sorry to hear that but you have to move on. It’s not that easy, when you’re in love getting over that heartbreak takes time. When you get divorced, learning to be single again takes time. If your mother dies and she’s been your rock from the day you were born learning to function again takes time. We have to start having honest conversations about life.

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