Excavating A Rock Of A Man Poem by Belle Violet

I think you talked a big game
that Saturday night.
I think the drinking
and watching
Jacob waffling
made you
second guess
our life.
I think your suspicion
I was cheating
and our only two fights
forced you
to make up your mind.
And, I think
you jumped
the gun.
We weren't having sex
because of
your moodiness.
Because of my stress
and my lack
of confidence.
There was never another man
I wanted to be in the hands
of.
There was never anyone else
at all.
I only wanted
your arms.
We should have
kicked the puppy
out of bed more.
We should have taken the time
to close our door.
That's what you have to do with kids.
We even joked about this.
We should have known that
and did it.
You should have told me you wanted
me to go down on you.
Say "ride me"
like you used to.
Tell me I'm pretty.
I never made you feel needy
for compliments.
But, I am sorry I forgot to say
your haircut
looked nice once.
If you could have dealt
with the stress from work
and hung up that worry
as soon as you were home,
It would have calmed
my whole world.
But your head isn't in the place now
to be thinking about girls.
I should have told you
I wanted to hear you
whisperimg my name,
and you should have
told me
the same.
You wondered why I stared at my phone.
Why I seemed so disinterested and preferred to be alone.
You didn't realize I was writing,
reading the news,
keeping up with my friends,
like I always do.
Your brain immediately went to
worst case scenario.
We'd never had trouble before
telling each other
what we wanted
and needed.
We'd never gotten
to the point of feeling
like we couldn't talk.
I know it's hard for you
to speak your mind.
to tell me what you hated,
most of the time.
But I remember when there
was fire in your eyes.
Fearlessness.
To bear it all
and
to keep this.
We decided we wanted
to be together.
Even if that meant
that we'd maybe
never
see our best friend again.
It didn't matter to us,
because we
were in love.
So, you say you don't miss me.
Tell me, baby,
what do those noodles
made of chickpeas
taste like?
How does it feel
not coming home
to dinnertime?
I know that you've been
complaining about feeling fat.
That you miss the gym.
Did you think I didn't love you?
And what makes you
him?
You aren't fat.
You aren't broken.
You're shy
and not open.
I was cooking better for us.
To try to make you
feel better
about this.
I never wanted you to feel neglected
or that I didn't want you.
I just wanted you to
meet me halfway.
Lift the covers, like you used to.
stop being so self conscious
and afraid.
I always listened about work.
Your dad is a jerk.
Those kids are worthless,
you feel stuck.
And I know I complained
about my job, too.
It was hard
to be in charge of
all of
Rock Auto.
I know you listened to me
like I listened to you.
But my job is better now.
How's it for you?
I am disappointed
you didn't try NASA.
That you were worried
it wouldn't be what
you were after.
I wanted to build you up,
but your mind was made up,
and so I let you pass up the chance
to trade in your Dickies
for khaki pants.
I never wanted to push you.
but you have to understand
I believe in you.
even if you don't.
If you think you can't,
I already know,
you can.
It'd be hard to leave your dad
and a tough commute.
Did you think I wouldn't be there
to listen to you?
To help you through?
Truth is, I always saw us
working together.
You running a shop
and me
pushing the papers.
That would have been
perfect for us.
Less stress.
More time.
More money in the bank.
I'd answer the emails
and field all the calls
keep track of the deadlines,
the stuff going out to get plated.
I would have
handled it all.
For you.
For us
To give us a life
and a job
we both loved.
It would have been
so much easier
on the both of us.
In the meantime, I was happy
for the overtime.
It afforded me the ability
to fill my office with
leveling kits.
Air compressors.
Anything you could
want or need.
It was important that I
find ways
to keep you happy.
And it isn't me that's been
making you
unhappy,
It's been everything draining
the life out of you.
But that wasn't me,
Baby Beast and Poo..
You just threw away
the easiest thing you could.
hoping it would
lift a weight.
It won't, baby,
I'm not the source
of your heartache.
My money was for us.
Whatever
you wanted.
Eventually I wanted a new couch.
Eventually I wanted
to buy the boards
to grow our house.
But I'd have been just as happy
to split it all down the middle.
but money, for you,
is very
personal.
No you don't need a woman
to buy you things.
You have plenty of money
to do anything.
But,
didn't you like that?
That I wanted to contribute
as much as I could
back?
I loved keeping a clean house.
I don't like being a pack rat.
But when was I supposed to
have the time to clean, purge,
cook, grocery shop,
drive and work?
When could I have done all that?
I wanted the cabin done enough
before winter.
And
we did it.
Did you think these last few weekends
would be what things
would be like?
It's unfair to throw in my face
about the dishes.
The laundry.
When was I supposed to do
all of that, honey?
Did it occur to you that
I hadn't been home
for about six weekends?
Didn't you bother to think
that wasn't how
things would stay?
Didn't you realize,
for.more than 3 years,
it had never
been that way?
I stopped smoking because
I know you hated it.
I know that you didn't like
that it glazed me.
I know you felt like it numbed me,
dumbed me,
made me dull
and detached.
Why couldn't
you just
say
that?
Because I would have told you,
"Then, let me
just hold you.
Go back to the man
who was fearless.
The one who showed
that he needed us."
Stop making me feel
so utterly
worthless.
Stop pretending I was a mooch
or a drain
to your perfect.
Baby, we're both flawed.
Neither of us
has it all.
Yeah, that talk
would have been hard,
but it would have softened
our hearts.
Just talk
to me.
Stop burying
everything.
We talked about
a barbecue wedding.
Adding a bathroom,
and a bigger living room.
Didn't you know,
I wanted all of that, too?
Of course you did.
It was something
I never kept quiet
or hid.
Talking about our future
was scary for you.
Talking about us
you found
impossible to do.
I'm disappointed
I didn't
force you to.
We have a family, Kurt.
We have years of texts and pictures,
memories and gifts,
that now,
only hurt.
You can't tell me you don't miss
walking into a house
with no dishes.
And food
in our fridge.
You can't tell me
you don't miss watching movies,
me bringing you
sliced apples
to crunch.
Me holding your hand
or rubbing your back
in your truck.
You can't tell me you don't miss
having someone to laugh
at Beej and our families
with.
Someone to bring along
to have Chinese
with Mom Mom.
And someone
at home
with the stove
and the lights on.
Your friends don't know you
that well.
They don't know
how hard
we fell.
They don't know how we melt.
They don't know how you held
me.
You can convince them
you don't miss anything.
But me,
I know
you miss
our beginning.
And someday,
you'll miss everything.
And you've loved me
all these years,
otherwise, why say,
"Have a good day at work, babe"
If you didn't care?
Why do you think it's impossible
to have that again?
Have you somehow morphed
into
a different
man?
You know me.
You know
my heart beats only for you
worries about, protects,
and needs you.
You think it's easier to come home
to an empty life
than it'd be having me
as your wife?
I needed time to breathe
after selling my house,
squaring up the cabin
and settling
back down.
Did you think that wasn't going
to happen?
I can assure you,
I was in the process
when you laid
this hammer down.
Why do you expect
life will be perfect?
Why do you think
I can't put the work in?
Why do you think
I'm not worth it?
You've never been happier
than with me,
You've never found a woman
that forced you to be
fearless.
You say you don't miss me
but, what you mean is,
you'd rather
forget me.
Good luck with that.
Good luck looking
at our puppy's face
trying to forget the day
I brought him into your life.
Good luck on Saturdays
that no longer smell
like coffee, scrapple and eggs.
Good luck when your feet hurt,
pretending
I didn't exist, Kurt.
Good luck remembering birthdays.
Jury duty.
Good luck picking out
Christmas gifts
that actually mean
something
to somebody.
you put that hole in
your basement door
for me
because I'm always cold.
We bought pellets together
for our stove.
We covered the chairs together
that our puppy gnawed up.
My ghost is in
every corner
of your house.
And you can pretend it was all bad,
You can remember my face
as distant and sad,
but you should remember the good.
and the woman that stood
quietly at your side,
accepting every piece
of the guy
that you are.
You can't flip a switch
pretending I didn't exist.
I know your favorite foods
and your moods.
I know how much you'd love
if I learned
Mom Mom's recipe
for beef stew.
What happens when she's gone?
When the only other woman
that knows you
leaves you in
this world,
all alone?
You think someone else
will care that much?
You think lust is enough?
Superficial girls
who just want you
for your looks
and your money?
You think that will make you
feel happier, honey?
You think they'll clear your plate,
Rub your back when it aches?
Hold you like you
mean something?
You think they'll care about
who
you are
as a person?
You think they'll know your childhood
Your thoughts and
your mood?
You think they can deal with
your attitude?
Neither of us is perfect
And neither of us bothered
to keep putting the work in.
why do you think we can't get back
to what we are;
A best friend
kind of couple?
You would go to Jacob's
and text me
"Be home soon"
And when you were
I never bitched,
I just had dinner ready
for you.
I never asked you
to tell me where you were,
nagged or begged you
to be more
available.
I just wanted to keep that key
to your heart.
To keep carving out
all the bad in your life,
your worries and grief,
and your inability
to believe
in the man that you are.
And I have worked
so hard.
Why doesn't that matter to you?
Why are you so set on
keeping us unglued?
I've decided
from now on
I'll keep saying
what's going on.
That I'll love you as boldly
and loudly as I always did.
I'll keep writing for you
as these thoughts pop
into my head.
Because you loved when I wrote.
You loved that I
would bare my soul.
You loved
just to know
there was someone out there.
that wouldn't ask you to change,
Just to never
stop giving
her
all of you.
And so,
I won't.
You're far too special to me
Far too close and familiar.
And whether you want to
accept it or not
we're far too similar,
Besides,
you're heart is
my home.