When I drive to work, mostly in a half daze, I watch the people walking by, bundled up with down coats and scarfs revealing only a fraction of their faces, fighting desperately against the bitter wind. Sometimes I slow down, think about offering them a ride, because hell, I have been there before. I never do and for this I feel bad sometimes. I look at them and wonder what they are thinking. How they feel, if their life is better or worse than my own.
I stare into the mirror and spot the signs again. The signs of the emotional weariness, the over indulgence and mostly the sadness. My eyes have black circles and I am frequently asked if I was hit in the face- to which I reply that I was, by an abusive husband, just because I like to see the reaction on their face.
I am rarely humbled, in fact I count on one hand the times it has happened. These last two years have been the worse for me emotionally. I have grown a thick skin but hollow heart. The suffering around me gets too hard to bear sometimes.
Someone who I love, probably more than any man I have ever met, more than the air I breathe and more than the sand on my feet on the coast, has received some terrible news. Instead of trying to be supportive (but how can you when this happens?) I can't stop thinking about how I cant live without him, how all I will have are his words. Selfishly I think of how his illness will affect me, how much heartache his passing will bring me.
Sometimes I wish- we had never met, then I would never have to know this pain, but in the immortal words of Garth Brooks- country crooner -
Life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
but I'd have had to miss
the dance.
I stare into the mirror and spot the signs again. The signs of the emotional weariness, the over indulgence and mostly the sadness. My eyes have black circles and I am frequently asked if I was hit in the face- to which I reply that I was, by an abusive husband, just because I like to see the reaction on their face.
I am rarely humbled, in fact I count on one hand the times it has happened. These last two years have been the worse for me emotionally. I have grown a thick skin but hollow heart. The suffering around me gets too hard to bear sometimes.
Someone who I love, probably more than any man I have ever met, more than the air I breathe and more than the sand on my feet on the coast, has received some terrible news. Instead of trying to be supportive (but how can you when this happens?) I can't stop thinking about how I cant live without him, how all I will have are his words. Selfishly I think of how his illness will affect me, how much heartache his passing will bring me.
Sometimes I wish- we had never met, then I would never have to know this pain, but in the immortal words of Garth Brooks- country crooner -
Life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
but I'd have had to miss
the dance.
It's only natural to think how that situation would affect you, and how you'll miss him. There's that quote as well 'It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all'. Which is basically saying the same thing as Garth.