Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Don't Cry

"Things will get better. Don't cry." He said softly, as he brushed the strands of hair from her face.

"Why do you say that? I want to know, have you seen the future?" She spewed out between sobs. A crumpled kleenex in her hand, clutched close to her face bore the evidence of the night's crying bout.

"No, but when I look into your eyes I can see my future. We will get through this together, whatever it takes." He grasps her hands gently, and gazes lovingly into her eyes.

The tears fall heavier than before, and her body heaves with each gasp for air. In this moment he is all she can see, he is everything, and he is nothing. She wishes he would just die already, with his optimism and his placating, and at the same time she feels he is more than she deserves. She longs to feel those feelings, she yearns to believe that everything will be as wonderful as he seems to believe. She drops the soiled kleenex to the floor and pushes him away.

"How can you sit there and pretend like you understand?" She asks through clenched teeth. "You have not felt loss, you have not suffered like I have suffered." She feels like a martyr, and comes close to biting her tongue but the words roll like water through a floodgate and she finds she cannot hold them back. "You can sit there and you can pretend like the worst is over, and happiness and rainbows await us on the other side of this damned bridge but I know what comes next. Hardship, pain, grief, loneliness, darkness. I will walk alone into the night. For you cannot take this journey with me."

He recoils as if he'd been slapped. Seeing the pained look in his eyes makes her wish she could take it all back, but even if she could it wouldn't feel right.

No idea where this came from.. I sat down to write something "happy" and this flowed out onto the screen. I guess sometimes certain stories want to be written.
As an aside this is not a true story. It's based on a feeling. That feeling you get when someone just doesn't understand, and all good intentions aside you can't help but get frustrated with them.

1 comment:

Mrs. Spit said...

Oh Azera. I was so thankful for those who reminded me - Gabriel was someone I knew. He was someone who lived inside me. To Mr. Spit, he was a twinkle in his eye, a baby he met for 30 minutes.

Men and women grieve so differently. It's hard to let each other grieve as we do, and not judge, but simply accept.

Your DH will never grieve the way you do, and he can't understand how you grieve. It's not possible. I've been there, walked in your shoes, and I can't completely understand.

Wishing you both comfort and peace and sending hugs.

It does get better. I promise.