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Imaginary Husband

by Ame Ai

I had a husband
that didn't exist
when I was young, restless,
and a little princess.
He was the yard post
with whom I compared
the men who were not so aware.

Why can't you be like him?
Why can't you say things that make sense?
Why can't you be him?
Why are you so dense?
Why can't you be perfect?
His name is Illusion,
a crack in this.

I held him for ages.
I spoke to his soul,
but truth, by comparison,
was lifeless and cold.
I asked to be loved
by the one who knew all.
I asked for some help
in feeling less small.
I asked to marry
someone like him.
I gave him a promise
but impatiently threw the towel in.

A man asked for my hand,
and I wanted it real,
so I said yes
to have a real person to feel.
But when I felt
the ways I have since birth,
he planned his escape, away from this earth.
I expected compassion
and met with some fears.
I expected reason,
but had to fight back the tears.
I wanted someone normal,
normal like me,
but I have lots of problems,
one being OCPD.

I realized that image,
brown hair and blue eyes,
was the one that was lacking
because he had died.
In fact he could not
be the death
after life,
for he'd need to have lived,
to have experiences,
to have strife.

So I decided to love
the me that was so wise,
despite knowing everything
and being right all the time.

This person I married
was not at all like me,
but I guess that's a good thing.
We both just want to be free.

10/10/2019

Author's Note: About obsessive compulsive personality disorder in marriage

Posted on 10/10/2019
Copyright © 2024 Ame Ai

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