Dear _,
You were the first person
Who made my heart so uneasy
That going hours without your voice,
Made me feel like I was being driven
To the edge of insanity.
When I spilled all I felt
On the ground around your feet,
You were the only person
Who picked up all my tangled thoughts
And kept it close to his heart
With a smile upon his lips.
From that moment on,
I engraved every word you spoke
Onto a little plaque inside my head;
I let the slightest warmth from every touch,
Seep past my skin and into the deepest parts of my bones;
And I read every gesture,
As something done out of love or admiration—
But I always knew that you were unsure.
That the clarity and euphoria
You brought into my each and everyday,
Wasn’t present in yours.
Even so, I held on desperately,
To every word, touch, and gesture.
I picked out each one
And like a tape stuck on replay, they repeated endlessly in my head,
And like an addiction, I couldn’t leave it behind.
Your name left my mouth,
Sometimes so habitually that I would be surprised
To find myself mentioning you
In the middle of a thought about the sky.
—And I still knew you were unsure.
So within this poem you will never read,
I wanted to say how deeply
Sorry I am.
How selfish I have been,
To take your smallest actions
And magnify them so that they would satisfy
My worries and insecurities.
I realized once the mania of my heart settled,
That I’ve been too caught up
Building a castle out of blocks
That might have never been real.
And you’re not to blame,
This time, I chose to hold on to this false hope.
So for the sake of my sanity,
And for the sake of your honest name,
I will step away with the mess I’ve made.
But to be totally honest,
It seems like a lie to tell myself today that
maybe, one day,
I can learn to let you go.
I like you.
Thank you,
__

Hi.
My name is Ashly (yes without an E in my name). I am 33, my husband is 47 ( yes 14 years apart). I couldn’t be happier with Brent in my life. On Wednesday, October 17 we will be together for 10 years, even though we have been best friends for close to 20 years.
April 18, 2010 we were married surrounded by our closest friends and family. It was the best day of my life, well both of our lives.
As any normal newlyweds, we went on a honeymoon, to Disney because that’s our “happy place”. Assuming we would start a family in the coming months or years.
Fast forward to today.... still waiting, and waiting....
After hearing for a couple years..
Are you trying?
Are you pregnant?
When will you have children?
The clock is ticking
Time is running out
So forth and so on...
Now many don’t ask who know
Many just wonder if we even ever wanted children or to start a family.
Seeing all my high school friends and others throughout the world posting on social media “We’re expecting”
“We’re going by two feet”
I kindly reply with a smile on my face, but emptiness in my heart. Forcing a smile and a nice gesture.
It’s not because I’m not happy for others, but discouraged with myself.
Why me?
Why us?
Are we not good enough?
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with my husband?
And the list goes on and on...
I’ve tried to tell myself “everything happens for a reason” and I try to stick by that quote, but unfortunately for this situation, it just plain *****.
It hurts, it’s mortifying, it leaves unopened and hurtful scars that you can explain or be seen to anyone.
As time goes on, it gets harder to think about because let’s face it, we’re not getting any younger. It’s a constant struggle to keep a smile on my face and happiness in my heart especially with this constant void.
But....
It’s ok.
I’m ok.
We’re ok.
If it would happen at some point, I’ll be happy and proud, but if it doesn’t, it wasn’t meant to be and that’s ok.
I am who I am suppose to be, who I’m suppose to be with and we are happy. Even if that means we will never be direct parents to our own child.
We both can be role models, aunts and uncles, friends and families to others.
Although the sand through the hourglass is running thin, our lives together is where it all begins.
Happiness and struggles
Love and pain
We are one together and that’s the most precious thing I can say.
I love you Brent, with all my heart, even if we’ll never be parents, I wouldn’t want to go through this with anyone else.

It's funny how you lie, because I know it all.
The things that you say behind these walls,
But I won't let you know this, no I will not throw a fit.
Because he'd spit out lines of ignorance all over me.
And our friendship is more important to me than this,
This sweet ignorance.

The pain you've been causing recently to me hurts,
It burns every curve, every slot, it slurs my mind,
Because I've believed in you from the beginning of time.
And to think that you've been laughing,
Praising hate towards me.
I wish I could just wake up, and tell you about this insane dream.

Or maybe I'm the one to blame?
Have I really been acting out as crazed as you say?
Backdooring you as if you weren't anything new,
I can't recall these events in the album of my memories.
Please start pointing them out to me.

I feel as if we are strangers now.
It's breaking into my mind,
I can no longer sleep right at night.
And if I drift away, I wake up with dried tears on my face.
I don't want you to go,
Please stay by my side.
Weren't we bestfriends?
I never thought you'd be the one to make me feel as if I need to run and hide?

But now you are,
and I have to ignore this,
Because if I don't..
There will be ignorance,
Ignorance in the sweetest.
And neither of us need this.
This sweet ignorance.

“Have you written about me yet?”  you asked.
“I write about things that make me sad, you’re not one of them.” was my response.

But even as you made me sad,
Even as my heart started to crumble.
I never could write about you.

I am a poet I string stars into constellations
And weave words into stanzas.
I need someone whose eyes can be twisted into metaphors
And the mere sound of their voice makes my hands tremble so gracefully
That I can make my magic with a pencil.

I was in love with all the poems I wished I could write about you.
How badly I wanted to sculpt you with sentences into something
Too beautiful to call mine.
But you are not a poem.

Yes, your eyes are quite a gorgeous blue,
And your arms are strong.
I’m sure you would make a beautiful painting,
An inspiration for someone else’s art.
But not mine.

You wanted to believe all of my broken pieces
could fit in a cardboard box.
That's what attics are for, to hide ugly things.
You're beauty was skin deep.
And thats how you wanted me.
I didn't want to be empty.

“Have you written about me yet?” you asked.
“I write about things that have meaning, you’re not one of them.” should have been my response.

Your smell particles,
the
air
I breathe
The drug I need,
the endorphin I need...

Simply missing your presence,...
--how you said you loved me,
your warmth,
your gentleness,...
-- and the consciousness that you're there, ...

... Even though not in person ...

As I spread my arms for your voice...
Silence answered me, ...
Nothingness whispered he's here...
--a sole hero walking against the desert scorching sun...

Now the roses you gave me had withered and died...--
As how you felt towards me...
Nurtured, then cut off to whiter and dry ...

Unspoken words behind your tightly clasped lips,
the embers in your eyes betrayed you, dear ...
Cold
As
snow,
Not as pure
Murky as ridden by dirt...

You are another trinket,...
I close the chest of your shadow...
I'd never cut your wings,
so there, off you go,... --off with the stream,...

... cascading into nothingness ...

Mentally beginning anew,
Shower and storms scramble,
A mind, a mess, stuck in the cold of blue,
Writhing in pain without preamble.

A season after the cries of winter,
The tears of petals shed,
Flows hope once more enter
Where a broken heart bleed.

Relief of breath ooze,
As fragile blooms of forgiveness peek,
Through darken days of self abuse,
To nurture the delicate emotional physique,

Healing in time blind,
Pure instinct survives,
An emotional breakdown of the mind.
Until finally, awaken spring arrives.