There is a unique pain in being rejected by someone who otherwise seems to love you.
I thought about it, how all the outward trappings of family and togetherness make us seem whole to those look in through the glass walls we’ve built round our life together. They see the easy outward laughter and the complementary features that come with being with someone so long. They see how we band together in adversity, closing ranks on every blood relative, friend, and foe should the need arise. They watch as our children gather around us in apparent harmony, closed lipped and knowing secret wisdom they can never access. We are “hashtag”: relationship goals.
What they don’t see though is the cold stillness when they glance away. How hands that used to find me no matter where I was no longer touch me. How lips that used to ease me into peace shut tight in the darkness. How I sit waiting for the uncertainty; will you love me today? Or will there be blood drawn from my tatter heart as you ignore me more and more?
I crave your warm regard, the knowing that you have chosen me as more than just another collected thing on a shelf to show to the world until they are tired and you are satisfied. I miss climbing into waiting arms and crawling into a space that seemed just the right size for me. I ache for the knowing–of being chosen above all else but God.
Instead, despite the tearing down of myself into pleasing pieces to buy your affection, I spend each day as another responsibility that doubles as the very best showpiece that we are what we are supposed to be.