This is a work of fiction. I sat down and wrote this tonight but like all the writing I create, it embodies much of who I am and how I feel. This scene is not real but the emotions behind it are.
I don’t recall what you said to me as the door slammed against the rotting jam. Its timbers always creaked with each kiss of winter’s brisk breeze. Now they gave a wicked screech as if the dead were lamenting their descent into hell. Your words were like the last fading echo just before it disappears into lost infinity. They carried no meaning other than the whisper of your footsteps as their heavy tread thundered across the crumbling porch. I felt my ears tense in expectation of the loud crack of boards crumbling as each foot was planted firmly and relentlessly upon the rotting boards in your departure. But instead what was left in your wake was the effervescent silence following your thundering exit as if a momentous storm had just swept through the landscape of our love. A landscape once so brilliant with love we couldn’t look at it without wearing shades, now bearing no resemblance to anything other than a shroud.
I thought I would feel my heart break, what happened was not at all what I expected. There was a void, a dark and empty void, as if the very heart of me had suddenly ceased to exist. I reached my hand to my chest expecting to find nothing but a deep empty crevice and was surprised to find all was still physically intact. My hand detected the beating of my heart when all I sensed was a deep dark void. I felt flesh and blood with my hand but when I reached inside with my mind all I found was a vacuum of deep dark space.
I walked to the window watching you. I saw you climb into your car, give one last hateful look in my direction even though I knew you couldn’t see me from where I stood, I felt your eyes burn my flesh. You hated me. I felt the hate vibrating off your body and from your mind. In that moment, I knew it wasn’t my love you hated but my vulnerability. You couldn’t stand to see me weak and in need of your strength. I knew then I had been wrong in hiding it. In not revealing it when we first met.
In the year we had been together you had seen my strength, my bravery. You had marveled at how strong a person I was. You had told me once you didn’t think anything could ever destroy me. I didn’t know how much you really believed this until now. The moment you realized my vulnerability. The moment you saw my weakness, I saw our world crumble. I still can’t believe it. Maybe that is why I feel nothing right now. Maybe I am in shock. Maybe I am in that world of disbelief when nothing seems real and our bodies cease to exist.
I don’t hate you. I am disappointed. I keep hoping you will turn off your car and come back in our old crumbling down cabin. I keep hoping the look on your face will suddenly change from hate to loving tenderness and understanding. I keep hoping as I watch you drive away down the long dirt road that leads away from me, our home, and our landscape we built together.
I don’t understand why my vulnerability, why my weakness would make you turn away from us so suddenly. Why couldn’t you reach out and hold me? Why couldn’t you see that the loss of you was far more devastating than what I was now going to have to face on my own? Does the fear of losing me permanently to death far outweigh the hurt of leaving me while I’m still alive? How can you not stay and help me fight, help me live, for just one more day? I thought our love was strong enough to survive anything.
I guess I was wrong.
© Kate Spyder