Michelle

My Shell you used to say, doing your best to hide a grin that wanted to stretch itself across your entire face.
Your beguiling nature, how you would run through walls for the chance to seduce me.
The way that you continued to pursue me even after I was yours, allowing me to feel special, desired, craved, and wanted.
The way that you tenderly caressed every inch of my body allowed me to feel sexy, thirsted for, special, and loved.
The way that you held me in your strong arms made me feel safe, secure, cherished and needed.

There was a time in our lives when a simple hello would bring joy to our faces and goodbyes would bring tears.
The exhilaration, euphoria, and increased energy we felt when around each other sustained us through the times apart.
The loss of sleep and anxiety and feelings of despair when separated allowed us to appreciate and cherish our time together.
Our relationship meant the world to each of us and, while maintaining it was difficult, it was worth every ounce of effort. 

My Shell you used to say, but now that is something that I don’t hear nearly as much as I would like.
Each day is no longer paradise; trials and tribulations do their best to divide us. 
This path defined by those before us warned of these difficulties, but we assured each other we would overcome anything.
But the resources we amassed to help work through these issues were either underutilized or not as plentiful as we might have thought.
For when our relationship hit its icy patches, we just assumed it would fix itself, rather than trying to work through the problems.

My Shell you used to call me, but that is something that you don’t say much anymore.
We took each other for granted, too naïve to see our love needed patience and our relationship needed practice.
The physical touch that you needed lacked the emotional intimacy that was so important to me.
Your sexual advances made me feel like an object of desire one moment, but hollow and neglected the next.
There were times when I needed to hear your words to make me feel special, but your voice always turned up mute.

My Shell you used to call me, but that is something that I haven’t heard in years.
Too easily, we became absent in each other’s hearts and invisible in each other’s eyes.
We became jealous of each other’s successes and started to doubt each other’s innermost thoughts.
In times of desperation, we assumed much, discussed little, and let our false pride foolishly isolate us from one another.  
With each new day, our lines of communication continued to dissolve, leaving us vacant, despondent, and resentful.

There was a time when we were very much in love, but this lifetime of commitment has taken its toll.
We used to be full of the hopes of tomorrow, but now all we seem to have are our memories of yesterday.
We allowed the obstacles of the day to disunite us without as much as a legitimate protest on either of our parts.
We neglected the time and energy needed to sustain our relationship, yet wondered why it dissolved so quickly and easily.

My Shell you used to call me, but that is something I know I will never hear again.
When I ask you why this is something you no longer say, you plainly say that it just sounds so childish and dumb.
I crumble with your words. I feel as if you are piercing my heart. I wonder if it’s the same for you, but I lack the want even to ask. 
It is so chilling to admit that our love for each other has vanished; we should have worked harder, we should have spoken more.
There is no war. There is no fight. It is only surrender based upon our inability to do the work needed to meet each other halfway.