Candid Corvid Productions

Dead-end relationships.

(Title of multiple meanings)

It used to be customary that if a woman was not married nor “with” someone that her ring finger would be kept unadorned to indicate as such.

But the years of being on my own created an ache that has hurt too much, so I often wear a ring of my own choosing upon it.

I wonder if this complicates the issue.

The concept of polyamory did not appeal to her because her generation had used it as agrandized infidelity.

Why did true pair bonding seem even more rare now than when she was growing up in the 70’s?

What did a woman need to do now in order to find and secure her worthy life partner?

The painful recollections of how the whole situation seemed to have been set up in order to just use and discard her pounded on and hounded her psychology, causing headaches.

It had come to the point where she was feeling as if she were more male than female because she had been having to carry all relationship responsibility while the men she had met prior to him had behaved as if they were all such injured and paper-thin wall flowers.

She noticed that he was shivering as the group paused while moving heavy gear in the rain, preparing to set up the concert’s expansive lighting.

She didn’t know why she felt drawn to help him, but she had an extra large jacket with her and walked over to him while offering it as the crew continued on without him.

He gratefully accepted the offer and began peeling off his sopping-wet second layer.

His sleeves where clinging, so she helped tug them off from his under shirt and held up the thicker, more rain-resistant cloth for him to easily shrug into.

His back to her as she let the second sleeve go once his arm slid through, he leaned his arms forward to rest against one of the large containers as he caught his breath from all of the hard labor.

She smoothed the coat down over his back with her hands and then, because he was still shivering, leaned in and hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and chest to further lend him her warmth.

What made this somehow ok for her to do?

Was it the pouring rain tugging at her compassion?

Finding that her right hand wrested over his heart, she could feel its heavier beat calming and his breathing beginning to self regulate.

Then, everything shifted.

She could feel his presence enveloping and welcoming her, confidently and curious.

Emotional intelligence and experienced maturity compatible to hers activated her instincts as he absorbed her attention.

When she tried to read his emotions, he shifted slightly and relaxed into her embrace, letting her stay momentarily in the lead.

So this is what is felt like to find a man who might match her?

She was startled and intrigued.

They had all waivered, but she hadn’t.

She needed someone who wouldn’t.

(Title play with words)

He realized that how he had treated her was unconscionable.

“She discovered that a huge sense of injustice was pervading her reality.”

There’s a hero’s stance
If given half of a chance

Would fall to love’s knees
Yielding in order to please

Yet where greatness resides
Unmet needs fight with pride

Without matching strength
To compliment and guide.

“We are nothing to each other.

We are not friends.

We are not lovers.

We do not even look at each other.

It is as you wanted from the beginning.

We are nothing…” she whispered.

(Title play with words)

Should change, but they don’t.