Points of No Return

I remember in childhood hearing my maternal Grandma say of my Grandfather, "He's always the very last person to give up on someone or some thing, but once he does throw in the towel, you've reached the point of no return." At the time, I gathered from her words only the most nebulous concept of what they actually meant. But I came to understand them - and just how charactistic of my Grandfather they truly were - much, much better with passing years. And, in adulthood, I also grew acutely aware that it's a trait my Grandfather passed along to me.

Mostly, I now believe, because of experiencing the things I did regarding my mother's two disastrous marriages and the ensuing 'Heartbreak of Deadbeat Fathers', I apparently, as young as the age of five, began asserting that I had to no wish to marry until at least the 'ripe old age' of 40. Given that this declaration was made 1956, my Grandfather found it particularly amusing that his wee granddaughter, notwithstanding her adulation for the infamous and much revered Cinderella, was already bucking the June Cleaver/Father Knows Best way of life so societally prevalent and adhered to in that era.. He would take me grocery shopping and to the bakery every Saturday, and was fond of prompting me to air my precocious views on marriage in front of the Westinghouse buddies and fellow Veteran friends we'd invariably encounter. He'd wink at whatever chum we happened to meet, then ask, "When ya gonna get married, Kelly?", to which I'd jut out my little chin and reply, "Not 'til I'm 40, Grandpa... not 'til I'm 40!" Grandpa and his pals would all get a good guffaw out of that, which I took as their approval of my contention, though I was utterly clueless regarding why they found it so amusing. Simple and beautifully unencumbered are the joys of childhood...

ANYhoo... as youth, young adulthood, adulthood, and middle age came and went, I not only talked the talk, but walked the walk, so to speak, regarding remaining unmarried. With the passing decades, of course, I morphed into far less of an "abnormality" in that regard as the ranks of women chosing to remain unmarried and not have children unless they were wed increased appreciably. Age 40 came and went, and I'd grown quite comfortable in my unmarried 'skin'. I've always equated my mid-life 'serendipidty' that age 40 had come and gone, that I might very well never marry - and that, wonder of wonders, the concept was not the least bit troubling for or frightening to me - with the same kind of "Eureka" moment Columbus must have experienced when he didn't sail off the edge of the world. I'd been engaged several times by then, but amicably bowed out each time, realizing that following through would have proven to be a mistake for both of us. I was cognizant of the fact that my standards for a potential mate were as stringent as those to which I consistently endeavor to hold myself, and understood that this - particularly as my youth grew more and more distant in life's rear view mirror - would significantly diminish the numbers of available potential soul mates. And I was okay with that to the Nth degree.

And then came Bunkie.

He was my soulmate. And I his. He says that even to this day.

Unfortunately, though, timing is everything. We met a few years after a woman I think he loved very dearly suddenly broke it off with him and married another man. Bunkie is a confirmed bachelor, and we therefore fit like a hand in a glove. I grew to love him very deeply; so much so that (revealing one of my deepest, darkest secrets here), I secretly came to realize that, were he to ask me, I would *gasp!* marry him - and most assuredly live happily ever after for having done so. But I'm a huge believer in the "If you love something, you must let it go. If it loves you back, it will return." philosophy. Soooo... when, after nearly 5 years, "Penelope", freshly divorced and ready for love, burst back on the scene, I decided it was best to give the man some space... and wait to see if he returned of his own free will. I moved from Ohio to Texas... how's that for "space" ? . After that, our friendship intensified all the more. He calls at least once a week, and we yack and laugh for hours on the phone. He still calls me his soulmate and his 'treasure', and speaks often of how wonderful the time we share together is. But, for a plethora of intuitive reasons, I know that the kind of love he feels for me and the kind of love I felt for him are two entirely different things. After nearly sixteen years and given the fact that Penelope is still in the picture, she probably was never out of the picture when it comes to Bunkie's heart. And for that reason, I'm letting him go. I love him enough to do that for him, and have abolutely no regrets. What we had for those sixteen years, though it may not have been all that I'd hope it would become, is a treasure I'll forever cherish. And it comforts me to realize that I can love someone deeply enough to find true joy in their happiness.... even if it's with someone other than me.

Guess yer stuck with me, Texas - .

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“ You Were There “

You were there.... in that hidden, secret place none else could see;
that empty, aching space so deep in me ~
you were there.

Thorny walls around a wounded heart, undercurrents keeping us apart,
odds against us from the very start ~
none could with your tensile strength compare... and you were there.

Conquering demons standing in your path, you stemmed the flow of evil's aftermath,
found the trembling child behind the mask...
freed her captive heart and laid it bare by being there.

By you my fettered heart was freed from chains, winging far beyond all grief and pain,
healed by love and soaring unrestrained, salvaged from the ashes of despair...
by the precious moments you were there.

Vanquishing relentless, choking fears, stilling horror's screams and searing tears,
unfailingly courageous through the years ~
healing all with gentle, loving care while you were there.

Yet, when all the battles had been won... just as my soul's depths first felt the sun ~
just when love and trust had made us one...
at the long awaited hour of our dawn I found you'd gone.

Like a frightened doe, I froze in place ~ ventured not one step beyond that space
where pain had been assuaged by your embrace...
trying hard to mend the broken bonds... but you were gone.

Time, it's said, heals each and every wound ~ love that burned so bright is never doomed...
though in silence it may lie entombed, locked once more inside its fortress strong ~
the place my soul returned when you were gone.

Safe therein my spirit once more sleeps ~ yet lives on and for it none must weep.
By the light of faith it vigil keeps, tenderly preserving in its care…
the memories of our love when you were there.

In this sequestered chamber I'll reside, despite the bitter winds that rage outside...
our love now tossed upon an ebbing tide ~ no longer am I solace sweet denied.
Back through the mists of time I'll cast my stare... and find you there.

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