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My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – The Bed Comes Down.

In Break-up, children, civil unions, court, Crying, Current events, dating, Divorce, domestic, family, gay, grief, homosexuality, kisses, Law, law enforcement, Lesbian, lgbt, Love, Marriage, movies, news, Pain, parenting, Politics, portland oregon, relationships, single, sleep, Uncategorized, women on April 17, 2011 at 2:43 am

( I had written this April 17th, but I didn’t really feel right in sharing it until now. I don’t know, maybe I just needed to hold onto the memory a little while and let it be the last intimate thoughts and memories we shared.)

In a little bit, a friend is coming over to help me carefully take down her bed. Our marriage bed.

I want to make sure that things are ready for her when we do the scheduled moving of her items. The easiest, quickest and most uncomplicated transition possible is my goal.

Right now, her pillows are where she left them. The smell of her hair has faded, but up until now, I just couldn’t move them. The only thing different is that I packed up the clothes she wore on our wedding day and they are are in  container, on top of her pillows.

I’m not exactly sure why I placed them there, perhaps it’s been my way of feeling her close. Not the woman who left, but the woman I married.

I laid on the bed for a little bit tonight, next to where she’d be if she were there. I closed my eyes and reached out, just to see if I could still feel her there. I could, but the memories that flooded me weren’t exactly the comforting ones. I was reminded of the nights I laid in bed next to someone who wasn’t really receptive of affection unless she felt I had earned it,  and I remembered when I would get up in the morning and I’d always ask for a hug before either one of us got out of bed. It’s something I asked for early on in our marriage, that she would hug me every morning. It made a difference in my day, and seemed like a beautiful way to say I love you. Towards the end though, I let mornings slip by. It just didn’t mean anything without the sentiment.

I used to love the way we would fall asleep facing each other and holding hands in the early part of love. She used to let me fall asleep in her arms, and hold me close. But over time, she started facing away from me. I would reach out to hold her, but either I was leaning on her and she would start to complain about her hips hurting. Or she would complain she couldn’t hold me, because she had to roll over because her body hurt in one place or another. All the excuses kept piling up and the withholding of any affection became such a lonely place to be. Not long ago, I told her I really needed to at least face me at night from time to time so that I could feel close to her in some way. Some little way to feel intimate and connected. She accused me of controlling how she slept. It made me feel awful that she saw my need to connect to her as we used to, as controlling.

The last hug I gave her, was on that bed, and was that morning that we had argued. I felt so bad that we argued, that I came home after I took the boys to school, crept into the room and gave her a hug. I told her I didn’t want her going to bed angry, and I was sorry if I had upset her. I didn’t get into details with her as to why I may have upset her, it didn’t even matter to analyze it. All I cared about was I had inadvertently upset my wife, and I did not want her going to bed without knowing I was sorry, and that I loved her.

That’s the last time I laid on that bed with her and held her.

Tonight… I just laid next to memories of moments created and fading dreams of moments I had wished to create…

.. with her.

I am going to miss that bed, but most of all I am going to miss all the the things it had come to represent in the early part of our marriage…

Love.

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