Wittier Word Weavers

Writers' Club of Whittier

Growing Apart


Because we crossed each other’s path,

We find ourselves in the tight knot

Of the marriage institution.

Have we ever been in fusion?

We share our meals, our car and home,

Memories of children now grown,

And go about our daily tasks,

Keeping grudges behind our masks.

Under the guise of love and care

Our true feelings we do not share,

And what is worse, oh! What a hoax!

We carry on our civil talks,

Sealing the night off with a kiss,

Playing at a semblance of bliss.

We live like a towering lie.

Who can tell, except you and I?

Published in September 2007 on my blog at


Author: Mary Terzian

Born and brought up in Egypt I learned English in a local high school run by Irish nuns. Along the deep faith they imparted to me one invigorating phrase remained etched in memory for a lifetime "I can and I will." It was my password through personal battles, hair-raising circumstances, or hopeless situations. Occasionally, when the going was rough the quiet pussycat in me flared up to a tigress to defend my stance. I finally realized my lifetime dream to become a full-time writer. Since authoring two books and several articles online I have reverted to my youthful enthusiasm despite advancing age. My advice to youth is borrowed from E. Roosevelt: "The future belongs to those who believe in the power of their dreams."

9 thoughts on “Growing Apart

  1. “Sealing the night off with a kiss,
    Playing at a semblance of bliss.”

    Very telling.

    • Thanks Cindy. I find this is the case with most marriages. Habit not love. Finally I managed to find the way to publish a blog. I may also open a website at wordpress. They seem to be very accommodating and popular.. . Mary Terzian nayri@aol.com

  2. Wait, I find another poet in hiding. Mary, pls consider visiting our poetry workshop on the second Sun of each month from 1pm-3pm. Robin Axworthy is sure going to woo you with her insightful critique, and the friendship and poetic discussion around you will make your Sunday ever-blissful (even if you skip a Sunday service).
    Jan Montes, after her visit, decided this would be the place where one would have the leisure to open up heart-to-heart with another person, not too super-busy like (shhh)…the F/NF group. No bell dinging, promise!

    • I wish I could. Sunday is my busiest day for church, socialization, lectures, you name it. Besides I have extended myself too far and am trying to cut down on my activities. I’m not a real poet. I only write when I am deeply hurt or when I am floating on cloud nine. A normal life does not inspire me. (haha). It looks like I am living a normal life nowadays. No inspirations. Mary Terzian nayri@aol.com

  3. I completely agree with Hong-My, Mary. Your poem is so real and poignant. I went to the poetry workshop for the first time and it’s wonderful. You should come. Thank you for sharing your poem with all of us. It’s beautiful.

  4. When I was in college, one of my Psych professors told us that married couples don’t really love each other; they just become so familiar with one another that they get comfortable and don’t want to change. I was quite upset by this, and I did not want to believe him, but your poem reminds me of that and of the deep hurt that comes from lack of “real communication.” Your words reflect that:

    And go about our daily tasks,

    Keeping grudges behind our masks.

    Under the guise of love and care

    Our true feelings we do not share,

    This poem hits a chord whether we want to admit it or not. Perhaps it will even open doors for some people to be more communicative, to share dreams, to get at the heart of their discontent (I’m still an optimist). It’s a courageous poem.

  5. Yes, it got the highest hits compared to my other literary tidbits. I must have hit a delicate chord.

  6. Your words make me think about how marriages hold up throughout the decades. This is a good poem on a very interesting topic.

  7. Women did not have resources then. Husbands were meal tickets. Love gave way to habit. They couldn’t imagine life apart.
    If they accepted the split, society would ostracize the couple.


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