I wrote a love letter to my wife last week and she responded by having her boyfriend tell me to leave them alone. I kind of wish I had divorced her 3 years ago because I don’t think I will ever understand how someone can lie so frequently and not feel bad about it. And it hurt my feelings each time I found out she was having another affair. Thats right, I was married for 6 years as she continually had affairs and I do feel like a fool. I think it’s all kind of embarrassing. She left me, I never could give up. Well, until now. Although I’m not sure, my mind is really numb right now. Although, her 6 foot boyfriend has awoken me to reality with what just happened. Even if it’s a numb reality. It’s just too embarrassing. This will be the last I write about her. Who? She who must not be named. Okay here goes, goodbye Elizabeth Barrett. I’m holding Rhett’s hand as Katie is in front of me opening up the car door to her mother’s vehicle. Her mother steps out of the car to help. I hold Rhett’s hand firmly. Then her boyfriend steps out of the vehicle. And my hand is open and I’ve turned around facing my eyes back to the front door of the house of which I am walking. I’m over there walking to my front door as behind me see my wife’s boyfriend following me. I say right before I open the front door, “please leave me alone”. I open the door standing over at the front of my house. You leave us alone, to me, says the tall man standing at the front door to my house. Now I’m walking straight into the bathroom. I’m over here reached over the toilet and can’t breathe because air does not seem to enter my body as I am vomiting. It’s not the most picturesque thing for an audience to see but I can’t really think right now. When I am composed again I stand up over there next to the toilet then walk over to this sink. [beat] I didn’t even notice, I don’t really know what the person in the mirror is thinking or feeling as they watch a man look into the mirror with the wrinkles of a 90-year-old. To tell you the truth, at this moment I’m not too concerned as I look down and align my throat so I don’t throw up again. On the front of my shirt that I am looking at; the words, “Mr. cool” next to Olaf. I then walk around my observer and before I step into my bedroom, which I only had a couple more steps to go, the choking cry escaped me as I then walk into my room and sit on my bed and the walls to my room fall and I see just blankness. The current crying that I am exerting, … I don’t really know what I’m thinking. My face is heavy. So I’m over there on the bed and there’s the door which is no longer there because it fell down, but the window? I’ll open the window. The window is opened. Then the cold on my eyes. I can smell the snow. Its night. Smell of nighttime snow. Now I’m in the center of the room and aligning my throat again to not throw up. Olaf… There’s the dresser. I’ll put on my favorite orange pajamas. The room’s missing the Christmas lights. | Katie and Rhett and I took down the lights and hour ago and the tree. I walk over there to the lights and then I align them over the edges of this coffin because I do foolish things like that and plug them in. I then am now. Oh that’s right. I have half my body falling off the bed and my mouth is open. I think my eyes are going to fall out. I lay my other leg next to my leg. Cross my fingers on my chest. I’m still over there on my coffin of multicolored Christmas lights shining around it and I’m lying here wishing I was dead. I open my eyes. | I’ve been laying here. I’m still laying here. It’s been a long moment of blankness. [beat] My friend is still standing in the corner of the room looking at me. I didn’t even notice again. It’s never bothered me before. I don’t have anything to hide. I close my eyes again. The motion of closing my eyes causes a few more streams of tears. I then open my eyes. And continue… not thinking. | How long’s it been? My eyes are so thick and puffy. Maybe an hour. [beat] My friend is standing next to my bed looking at my eyes. I don’t even know what the color of my friends eyes are. But mine are the color of chocolate milk. [beat] My friends face is looking right over me. That’s what I should do. I should vent my wants and desires and hopes. So I sit up. | I’m staring at the floor. Still staring. I see the lights around my bed. “Oh, hey there. Still there I see.” (talking to my friend.) I roll over to the edge of my bed, turn around facing this coffin. Then rest my elbows on top of it - Im venting my soul which consists of only two words. Then I open my eyes because I must’ve fallen asleep. | I’m not sure how long it’s been. I can’t really think right now. [beat] My friend is standing right behind me looking at me. I don’t mind if my friend watches me die. What was the value of learning her soul had a name for only me to know? My mind has just been so trapped with anger and hurt from her betrayal. I cant see two steps in front of me. Im exhausted. I want the emotional roller coaster to end just as much as everyone else does. And I want to keep my promise to my kids. There’s something toxic about hearing his voice protect her from me. I look down to align my throat again so I don’t. Just a minute. Okay. To say then I loved my wife would be an understatement. I rest my forehead on my hands and stare at the fabric of my blanket. Then a thought, how am I going to walk through that front door every day…? That front door will always remind me. That front door is my prison. Then the spine of my 90-year-old body crackles as it lifts my head up until there is this old man sitting upright next to his coffin as he is shoulder to shoulder with his friend, (my friend). This old man reaches into his chest and I pull out my bleeding heart in front of me making my hands all a mess. And I reach it out to you, and say to my friend, Type read it. I just don’t want it, not anymore. I think it’s broken and it’s kind of yucky holding this bloody organ around. It might even be toxic. And you do Type, and you say, “Robert I see you as you see me and our hearts beat as one. Let me show you,” and then you reach into your chest and pull out your bloody heart. That’s interesting. I mean it really is interesting to me to see how our 2 hearts compare and their differences and yet beat as 1. So I tell you that I Like your heart. And so you give it to me and take mine and we trade for the day. And I can breathe. And the wrinkles on my face are gone.
Posted on: Tue, 13 Jan 2015 22:25:51 +0000
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