A million questions hit me at once. Where had he been the last two years and why hadn't he called? Who told him where to find me? Was that a scar on his lip and did he have any idea what time it was or how my heart almost jumped out of my chest when the doorbell woke me? What if I wasn't alone, or didn't want to see him? Was that even possible? Why'd he cut his hair?
I didn't ask any of my questions. I damned that smile and the way it made me not care about anything except that he was back. One of us opened the door, and one of us invited him in, and one of us must have finally pulled out of the hug, because there he stood, in the middle of my living room, staring right through my skin and my thoughts, melting me into the same puddle of mush I had always been around him.
I showed him the house, and the baby who wasn't a baby any more. His eyes watered when I pulled back the cover to show him how she'd grown. I stopped him before he woke her. She wouldn't remember him and I didn't want to answer her questions. He kissed her head and whispered that he loved her and she was beautiful. I loved not remembering him ever saying that about anyone but her. Beautiful was her word.
He asked about family, friends, the job, my health, the old neighborhood, and would I marry him. I asked him to repeat the last part and he did, the second time without the nervous laugh, so I thought he might be serious. I damned him again, now for playing with my heart. But he was serious, maybe for the first time in all the years I'd known him. He was serious enough to ask a third time and beg me not to say no.
A second wave of questions washed in, harder to answer than anything the overgrown baby could have asked. Was I supposed to believe he'd stay, that we could love one another when we weren't laughing? Why now? Why not before I learned to live without him?
------------------------STOP--------------------------------
(After receiving wonderful critique from my Gather friends, I have decided that they are correct. This would have been better if I had stopped here. I'm leaving the unnecessary line so others can appreciate their contribution as much as I do, and to prevent the possibility of someone reading the comment thread later and wondering what that line was.)
Over time, most questions reduce to what if.
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Comments: 95
I'm fairly sure that you based this on your own experience, but you've written in such a universal way that I feel no need to ask you about the "real" details.
Here's my favorite part. It speaks to the "ego merging" that happens when we couple. Your voice is that of a hard-boiled film noir hero:
One of us opened the door, and one of us invited him in, and one of us must have finally pulled out of the hug, because there he stood, in the middle of my living room, staring right through my skin and my thoughts, melting me into the same puddle of mush I had always been around him.
I have often thought of Frost's words, so frequently quoted and referenced:
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler"
and thought it absurdly simplistic. I suppose for pictorial symbolism, it would have some value, but a billion roads would probably more accurate. I think we choose a particular one from the infinite array for a very definite reason. And I think you know that, too. : - )
I've had some what if moments, can be very unnerving.
Jeff, thanks for seeing who I am until one of those smiles walks in. Believe me, I can turn instantly to mush, sometimes just remembering.
You write . . . "What if". Excellent work.
Sheryl . . . Frost has long been a favorite of mine . . . back to Kennedy's day. I've commited a lot of his work to memory.
Regards,
Doyle I <~~~~~
I appreciate all of you!
A person remains long after they have
departed and when once more they
reappear, we can only ask, was I
not better without them?
This was a well written piece, Sandy, that evoked memories of another who had taken
another path then I.
Why not before I learned to live without him?
Timing often sucks. Plain and simple.
I'm trying to figure out if living with the "what if"s is a healthy state of mind... I think maybe we can only live wondering "what if" for so long before we have to put it to rest and make peace with either the decisions we made or the decisions we're about to make.
Wonderfully written, Sandy.
Gather is still worth digging through the pile of game articles to find the gems like this...
What if you've left?
Thanks for sticking around and sharing your phenomenal work.
Over time, most questions reduce to what if. Love that line!
You say, "I'm trying to figure out if living with the "what if"s is a healthy state of mind..."
I discussed this with someone else last night. My love never ends. Relationships do, but the love never does. I enjoy rethinking a what if like this one because I still live with and appreciate the love and because it helps me understand how I became who I am. I think it would not be healthy to return to memories like this if they made me angry or disappointed.
When someone once asked me to define true love, that is what I said... True love never goes away. You may not be with someone that you truly love forever... But you will always love the person.
I, too, am one of the fortunate souls who's life has been absolutely STUFFED with love. It has made me, I think, a better person all around.
Grown now, I begin to back off from the "What if...?" And have grown into a thankful state of repletion.
Love your writes. Please write often.
Wilka
Yes, they are. Thanks Wilka and Debra for adding to that.
I hope it's not a true story though.
I admire the craftsmanship, too.
Very Much.
The story is gripping; it is not strengthened by an allusion to life's mysteries or by becoming reflective.
The string of questions at the end of your (now) penultimate paragraph is sufficient.
Donna, please be careful with that 'w' word. I don't want to ruin my reputation.
Peter and Ivy, I appreciate that criticism and think I probably agree with you. It felt unfinished when I reached the end so I tried to wrap it up. I'll sit on this for a few days (and maybe get back to it when I get back to fixing that line in the Ship of Fools).
What if I want to meet this mystery person? What if we want to know the rest of the story? What if we are the ones that ask the "what ifs"?
I know I don't usually like "come read me" emails, but if you remember, could you send me a quick email if you continue posting on this? With this awesome FEED thing, I always miss out on the stuff I'm really looking for. And this would be one of those things.
I liked it.
Sorry, Robiyah. Next time I'll put the warning in the subject line too.
Regards,
Doyle I <~~~~~
That does it, Doyle. I was pretty sure I agreed with Ivy and Peter and in the process of preparing myself for that amputation (anybody else feel like they're cutting off a toe when they lose a line?) The problem is that I'm not sure what to do with it here. I don't want to chop the line and destroy this comment thread, so I think I'll just put a stop sign before it.
Thanks, guys. I appreciate the critique very much.
This was a wonderful article.
I just wanted to let you know that your group culturehaven is spotlighted in the Monday edition of Today On Gather. I love the concept of the group. Far too often people are criticized for telling others about their culture.
I will post the Monday edition after 9 PM tongiht. Congratulations
I love a Southern drawl. So long as you keep your chin forward and project the voice from just behind the teeth (it's about clarity) you're fine. As you make characters come to life in your stories you will have no problem animating them by varying pitch page and volume when reading.
Its easy, all you need is self confidence ;-)
Anxiously awaiting Abigail, Charles. Be sure to let me know when she makes her appearance.
Ian, mothers are like that. I can't understand how my daughter suddenly got to be the same age I am. Doesn't make a bit of sense. I'll work with the voice and see what I can do.
I've missed you.
but did like where it left off.
Perhaps the what if at the end did overstate it, since the question builds from the 2nd paragraph on. By the 3rd, you begin to ask, and after that and throughout to the end, the question is pervasive making the pathos so much more intense. (at least, that's the way I read it)
This is wonderful and leaves me wanting more...
Did you say yes? Was he for real or just yanking your chain? Did you marry and did it last? Did you walk away or is he still in your world? ....
Been there myself. : )
(not really, I do know your story so this is to represent all of us who have been there)
I've done the honorable thing, too, when it was like cutting out my own heart so that someone else would have a little protein in their diet to keep them alive. Afterwards, and especially with the perspective of time, the 'what if' questions only multiply.
I think the reason you added that sentence everyone rejected was the one bit of self-preservation you allowed: I think tagging this was like pulling out a tissue for yourself, but nobody else wanted to hear you blow your nose and regain your composure -- they liked exploring where the story put them and wanted to stay there.
Some better than others.
It does keep life interesting.
I didn't read your previous comment(s?) and had/have no idea who nixed what. I read this story -- over and over again -- until I could put into words what I liked best.
When Sandy added/amended the story, I respected that she had made the decision to do so, and gave that some thought: why did she add the one part that so many readers asked her to remove? Why would they ask her to remove it? And I posted what thoughts I had in answer to those questions.
I am approaching this from two perspectives. One, is the perspective of the writing. I am not a critic. I found the style drew me further in. I clearly wanted to know what the answer would be, as well as where he had been and the many questions you asked. Two, is the emotional reaction. I felt the pain of the seperation, the lack of trust and the wanting to trust again.
I appreciate your willingness to share a glimpse of you.
I did not read your original comment(s) or critique. Based upon that fact, and from your obvious distress that you were misrepresented in my own original comment, I apologize for upsetting you.
I maintain that my comment was never directed at the critics but at the question of why that particular line drew criticism, although clearly, from your reaction, my wording was open to other interpretations.
Sometimes you just have to take a stand. Whether you're wrong or right in the end, you may never know, because if ifs and buts were candy and nuts it would be Christmas all year long"
Thanks.