THE OTHER SIDE OF LOVE
Affection is like the fillings in the teeth of a relationship. When it is gone the hole is felt and sorely missed with nothing that can really take its place.. The Silence is deafening. I wait to see how long it takes to say a word…
A week has passed since celebrating my Birthday bash at the Firefighters Hall with family and friends in attendance. The adopted relatives from Newfoundland would say 'it was a grand time boy, just grand'.
Now it is dust mites, dirt, mold, meat, organic, no dyes or perfumes that concern her now. We are Alone together, quiet time but not peaceful, not a word after being away all day. I said, 'Hey, are you home early'? 'Yes', the only reply. I wished to ask if she wanted to go out to eat with a gift certificate. Together alone, the fillings, the hole. I ask her.
She said, 'you can go yourself'!
Four alarms at a house fire on Spring Street last night. I was on scene for five hours with the first two and one half knocking down the fire. The remainder overhauling and searching for hot spots to extinguish. At home I deal with hot spots each day now. I put them out with patience, love and example. I returned home answered her call. I thought she had heard of the fire and was uncomfortable in not knowing how I was. No, she is concerned about something that happened two weeks ago.
I realize that she knows nothing of real fires, those of the heart. She sees hot spots and lets them grow into raging infernos of the mind. Hot spots which she has now allowed to grow into an inferno of irreconcilable differences. Differences between real pieces of my heart and soul which she can't see anymore and blind emotion out of control in her mind. Post traumatic stress disorder creeping up for years from a past before meeting me, hurts never dealt with. They rise like ghosts and become devils of dysfunction. Past hurts that never allowed her to truly open up her heart to me. To let hearts touch in the place where spirit meets the soul. From sparks fires grow. My gut tells me once and again but I have not listened to my real feelings for so long now. Patience love and example couldn't extinguish what has come to pass.
For my birthday she gave me a harmonica and the blues to play on it. The sun rose yesterday and is coming up today but a cold wind has stolen the warmth. The nightmare in real time accelerates and threatens to overwhelm that which was once beautiful and 'grand'. I have played these blues before, but never such lowdown broken hearted blues.
I never saw this coming! I heard it from my oldest daughter. She greeted me at the door and I could see the pain and confusion. 'Mom called from work and said you are going to be upset'. A social worker called and gave me the news, my wife of 18 years did not wish to be married anymore!?! Needs space!
I agree to go because on the other side of love I could not be heard felt seen for who I really was. Though I loved still after all of the struggles to reconnect and reach that heart. The other side of love is in the leaving. Only those who have been here can know the depth of darkness and despair felt while still holding to Love. Leave with nowhere to go. I called her the next morning and she said, 'you can just come home', the last time I heard those words from her.
We had a nice chat, normal and concerned over the welfare of our three daughters. This would be my last night at 'home'. I look at the words and still can't believe it. Suddenly exhausted I just wished to rest somewhere on the other side of love. I awoke from a nap and no one was home to greet me, no one to keep me away. I went upstairs and didn't know what to do and looked at pictures of the past. She knocked on the door of our bedroom. Please don't knock it's our room come in and she said, 'in my own time'. She sat in a chair my grandfather had given me and tears flowed down my cheeks as I lay on what had been our bed. Remembering how hard I tried each night just to hold her to reach her to find that heart. Somewhere hidden underneath politically correct zero tolerance rules, vegan organic too busy for me agenda and a flannel nightgown. Each night I have reached out for love and affection. Instead of soft and warm I found arms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, crossed elbows and knees. I retreated to my side of the bed remembering the occasional joy of open arms and peaceful slumber.
A candle burns in the middle of the room. It is a present and comes from a place called hope, 250 hours of happiness is the claim. The candle burns out the last hours of what has come to pass. Helping me see the light. The candle was left burning when I went out at two AM on my last night, called out for a fire in which a 63 year old man died. Before I left I asked her to watch the candle and to sleep in 'our' bed. She came down and extinguished the candle from hope.
I will continue to light it no matter how hard it is to find a candle in the dark. My love unconditionally remains to ignite the wick of healing and joy on the other side of Love for the family and home I once had. Hold dear the fact that daughters are forever and they will find the Love that lasts ever after…
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Comments: 31
you've gotten it down beautifully, and realistically, though that is sad too. your imagery and metaphors are right on.
keep writing. it may help.
It took me 5 years aftr the filling fell out. You will recover. Look to that flame. One person told me what Churchill had said --something like "When you're in hell, just keep walking, one step at a time." That's probably not how it is exactly.
Talking about love it came to me one day that true love is when you love even when you do not feel like it. Two things I believe are necessary, one is committment the other forgiveness...without those two qualities love does not survive. Keep writing....glad to hear from you again.
Great story told better than I could imagine.
wilhelmine - your poor nephew.
all this PTSD is too hard to deal with - yet one must try, musn't one? areyou glad you tried, ken?
I think I was most touched by this line:
My love unconditionally remains to ignite the wick of healing and joy on the other side of Love for the family and home I once had
For though you can eventually get past the break up of the marriage, you continually mourn for the loss of the "family", especially when you look at your children. If you haven't already, read my piece called "Rock Them Gently", and you will see that you are not alone.
Very well done!
Not sure how I'll sleep tonight for the ghosts crawling out of the cracks, and they've been quiet for years. But Churchill was right. Think I'll buy a harmonica.
All the best.
Kathryn, Tina, Bonnie, Serina, Thanks for reading and commenting I learn and grow from all input. Peace to you and yours!
Beautifully written piece with wonderful insights and perspectives. I just loved this part:
"I realize that she knows nothing of real fires, those of the heart. She sees hot spots and lets them grow into raging infernos of the mind."
Not only is that great creative writing, but it also shows tremendous depth and clarity, my friend. I look forward to reading more from you. Great work!
I re read this story and was even more impressed by your handling of such a personal, painful topic; your choice of these metaphors this second time around appears to me not only apropos and illuminating, but also effulgent and healing. When I first read this piece and couldn't get my comment to stay in this little box--this happens to me often on my notebook computer when I'm writing outside in sunny Spanish plazas--I believed I said that this was a wonderful "process" piece, meaning that the energies in its vortex of conscious suffering were still in play, still coursing through the author. I now realize reading it again that there is resolution here, especially in powerful sentences such as, "My love unconditionally remains to ignite the wick of healing and joy on the other side of Love for the family and home I once had." You have come out of this to the other side hurt and sad, but a better human being for it, fully aware of what your heroic, self-sacrificing job entailed. I congratulate you on your achievement of passing this knowledge onto the rest of us. In my view, this kind of love--and the love that is in full view for your daughters--ranks with,"greater love hath no man than he who layeth down his life for his brother."
For those reasons, and the brilliance of your fiery metaphors by which you communicated them to us, you have my vote for this Top 2 love stories contest, Ken.
I wish you a prosperous future as a family man, and renewed lover in your newer, more conscious life.
The story tells us what the protagonist felt but not much about what happened.
The loved one doesn't seem to offer much to love other than, perhaps, remembrances of the past.
Is the other side of love anger?