It's only words. What matters is how I feel, not how I say it.
I told her that I loved her, and that was all I said. What other words could I say? For her it wasn't enough. I think I was wrong.
Words can't heal a lifetime of pain, no matter how eloquent. To realize the words that were never said, the feelings that were never expressed, that can't be expressed in words either.
Words can't take back a lifetime of wrongs. All I wanted to hear was "I forgive you." Did I even care if it was genuine?
I wanted her to be happy and miserable at the same time. "I wish the best for you," said with a smile. "I wish the best for you," spoken with a sneer. The words alone are not enough.
What a power it would be if words could make things true. Maybe if I say things often enough, I'll start to believe them. Is that close enough to making them true? "I love you."
For those who cannot see, words can paint a picture of beauty they could only imagine. For those who chose not to see, words are a wasting wind amounting to nothing.
I said I didn't love her anymore. The truth was, I loved her enough to see I was no good for her. Sometimes words can lie and speak truth from the heart at the same time.
Feelings exchanged through words form the most powerful words of all. I can't always know how you feel unless you tell me, and I can't understand how you feel unless you use the right words. Words can matter.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Dreams
Someday, I'm going to live in a mansion, a ridiculously large house with more rooms than I could ever possibly need with a butler and a maid, a cook and a gardener all in my employ. I will be the envy of all my friends. I will throw the most wickedly spectacular parties with caviar, live music from popular bands, and fireworks. Someday, it's going to happen. Everything else I do is just a means to that end.
Charles was in charge of the warehouse operations by the age of 22. He would have gone to college instead of working those 4 years, but he couldn't afford it yet. Now that he had his new position and a sizable pay raise, thanks to all that "hard work" and "dedication", he could finally afford to start taking night classes. A business degree was his aim. It seemed you couldn't get far in any business without credentials, no matter how savvy and spirited you might be.
It was beyond hard, but as he collapsed into bed at the end of each day, he reminded himself that it would be easier in the end. One year of night classes and then he'd start adding in online classes and before you knew it he'd have his associate's and then his bachelor's and soon his Master's. It did end up being a bit harder than he imagined, and he felt his health suffering, with anxiety and high blood pressure, but before he knew it, he was in his final two Master's classes in business. When he closed his eyes at night, he would see his future mansion even before he drifted off to sleep.
It was in one of those final two Master's classes that he met her.
She was beautiful even on her worst day. He could hardly believe someone hadn't snatched her up already. From snippets of conversation both overhead and engaged in, he learned that she had been essentially engaged to a man as stunning as she, but it was that "essentially" bit that caused the hold up because it drug on for nearly two years until the man admitted he could never see himself marrying her. He had been a fool, Charles thought. Who wouldn't want to marry this girl.
But after weeks of flirting and finally working up the nerve to ask her out, which he was going to do the next day, Charles got his first test score back. It was a pitiful C, so much worse than he had expected. Depressed, he sauntered into work the next day only to get a reprimand for said sauntering and for sauntering about all over the job recently, as if his mind was only half there. That was when Charles realized love, or the perception of love, was only getting in his way.
He redoubled his efforts and worked harder than ever, doing his best to ignore her, to try to even forget her beautiful name. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he managed to do it, pulling an A on the next test and getting a wonderful review of his remarkable turnaround on the job.
When you put your whole heart into career advancement, there is little if any room for anything else. Love only gets in your way. That's what he kept telling himself time and time again. On the nights when he would wake up from a dream about her, neck sweaty and pulse racing, he reminded himself that love of a beautiful woman was fleeting, but what he was working towards, his beautiful mansion, was real, attainable, and enduring. He told himself over and over again, and eventually the dreams and even the memory of her, of what might have been, began to fade.
Years passed. Raises, promotions, new positions. His bosses admired him and his co-workers mostly groaned and rolled their eyes until eventually he was the boss of all those former "co-workers". He was rigorously focused on advancing the company in order to advance himself. And it paid off in full.
After nearly 40 hard-working, dedicated years, he could finally afford his dream home. There had been no room for family, and very little room for friends, but he had what he had always desired: his mansion on a hill with a pool and tennis courts and even a couple of servants in his employ. A wonderful housewarming party with all his friends... or almost friends... or likable acquaintances. Many of the people there were his subordinates and not entirely comfortable, but he managed to invite over a few of his wealthy neighbors as well.
It was a glorious party: wonderful drinks and food, and those who knew their social graces telling him how wonderful the new place was and how he simply must stop by their homes so they could return the hospitality. Charles beamed with pride and thought to himself that he had never been happier. All his goals had been achieved. Now all that was left was to kick back, relax, and enjoy it all.
That kicking back was exactly what he did that night in his favorite of his six bedrooms. He untied his bow tie, kicked off his shoes, and turned on the news as he laid back in bed. That was when he saw her. After nearly 35 years, there she was on the screen. She was receiving a charity award for the non-profit she had started up nearly 20 years previously, to serve inner city youth throughout the region. She had aged, just as he had, but even through the imperfect TV screen, her perfection still shone through. His heart skipped a beat as his mind raced back to the dreams and the reality of her, some of it blurring together after all this years. And then, before he knew it, she was leaning over and kissing another man and inviting her grown children up onto the stage with her. One of them even had a tiny baby with them, presumably her grandchild. They all looked so happy.
Charles's pulse calmed down again as he scoffed and switched off the TV. He had clearly dodged a bullet there. A beautiful bullet, but a bullet nonetheless. Why waste your life helping others if you can't even help yourself? He had seen her clothing. Clearly second rate. And her husband really wasn't all that good looking. She could have done better, but Charles couldn't have. He had everything he ever wanted, and what did she have? Five minutes of fame on the local news. She only would have dragged him down; he saw it now for sure.
She'd had her dreams and he'd had his. His dreams of her had been pushed aside for the real dreams, the dreams of success and prosperity and material happiness. Had it been worth it all? Giving up any chance of being with her, with appearing on the stage as her simply husband with their simply children for a few minutes of recognition rather than a giant mansion and a lifetime of glorious accomplishments in business, had that been worth it? Yes, in his mind, absolutely it had been. He was the envy of all his friends. And what was she? Just a memory, tucked away. A memory in the ancient dreams of the man she had completely forgotten and whose mansion on the hill she would never see nor care about. He was the success she would never know, and that made him proud and happy. Why would he ever cry himself to sleep about that? All of his dreams had come true.
Charles was in charge of the warehouse operations by the age of 22. He would have gone to college instead of working those 4 years, but he couldn't afford it yet. Now that he had his new position and a sizable pay raise, thanks to all that "hard work" and "dedication", he could finally afford to start taking night classes. A business degree was his aim. It seemed you couldn't get far in any business without credentials, no matter how savvy and spirited you might be.
It was beyond hard, but as he collapsed into bed at the end of each day, he reminded himself that it would be easier in the end. One year of night classes and then he'd start adding in online classes and before you knew it he'd have his associate's and then his bachelor's and soon his Master's. It did end up being a bit harder than he imagined, and he felt his health suffering, with anxiety and high blood pressure, but before he knew it, he was in his final two Master's classes in business. When he closed his eyes at night, he would see his future mansion even before he drifted off to sleep.
It was in one of those final two Master's classes that he met her.
She was beautiful even on her worst day. He could hardly believe someone hadn't snatched her up already. From snippets of conversation both overhead and engaged in, he learned that she had been essentially engaged to a man as stunning as she, but it was that "essentially" bit that caused the hold up because it drug on for nearly two years until the man admitted he could never see himself marrying her. He had been a fool, Charles thought. Who wouldn't want to marry this girl.
But after weeks of flirting and finally working up the nerve to ask her out, which he was going to do the next day, Charles got his first test score back. It was a pitiful C, so much worse than he had expected. Depressed, he sauntered into work the next day only to get a reprimand for said sauntering and for sauntering about all over the job recently, as if his mind was only half there. That was when Charles realized love, or the perception of love, was only getting in his way.
He redoubled his efforts and worked harder than ever, doing his best to ignore her, to try to even forget her beautiful name. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he managed to do it, pulling an A on the next test and getting a wonderful review of his remarkable turnaround on the job.
When you put your whole heart into career advancement, there is little if any room for anything else. Love only gets in your way. That's what he kept telling himself time and time again. On the nights when he would wake up from a dream about her, neck sweaty and pulse racing, he reminded himself that love of a beautiful woman was fleeting, but what he was working towards, his beautiful mansion, was real, attainable, and enduring. He told himself over and over again, and eventually the dreams and even the memory of her, of what might have been, began to fade.
Years passed. Raises, promotions, new positions. His bosses admired him and his co-workers mostly groaned and rolled their eyes until eventually he was the boss of all those former "co-workers". He was rigorously focused on advancing the company in order to advance himself. And it paid off in full.
After nearly 40 hard-working, dedicated years, he could finally afford his dream home. There had been no room for family, and very little room for friends, but he had what he had always desired: his mansion on a hill with a pool and tennis courts and even a couple of servants in his employ. A wonderful housewarming party with all his friends... or almost friends... or likable acquaintances. Many of the people there were his subordinates and not entirely comfortable, but he managed to invite over a few of his wealthy neighbors as well.
It was a glorious party: wonderful drinks and food, and those who knew their social graces telling him how wonderful the new place was and how he simply must stop by their homes so they could return the hospitality. Charles beamed with pride and thought to himself that he had never been happier. All his goals had been achieved. Now all that was left was to kick back, relax, and enjoy it all.
That kicking back was exactly what he did that night in his favorite of his six bedrooms. He untied his bow tie, kicked off his shoes, and turned on the news as he laid back in bed. That was when he saw her. After nearly 35 years, there she was on the screen. She was receiving a charity award for the non-profit she had started up nearly 20 years previously, to serve inner city youth throughout the region. She had aged, just as he had, but even through the imperfect TV screen, her perfection still shone through. His heart skipped a beat as his mind raced back to the dreams and the reality of her, some of it blurring together after all this years. And then, before he knew it, she was leaning over and kissing another man and inviting her grown children up onto the stage with her. One of them even had a tiny baby with them, presumably her grandchild. They all looked so happy.
Charles's pulse calmed down again as he scoffed and switched off the TV. He had clearly dodged a bullet there. A beautiful bullet, but a bullet nonetheless. Why waste your life helping others if you can't even help yourself? He had seen her clothing. Clearly second rate. And her husband really wasn't all that good looking. She could have done better, but Charles couldn't have. He had everything he ever wanted, and what did she have? Five minutes of fame on the local news. She only would have dragged him down; he saw it now for sure.
She'd had her dreams and he'd had his. His dreams of her had been pushed aside for the real dreams, the dreams of success and prosperity and material happiness. Had it been worth it all? Giving up any chance of being with her, with appearing on the stage as her simply husband with their simply children for a few minutes of recognition rather than a giant mansion and a lifetime of glorious accomplishments in business, had that been worth it? Yes, in his mind, absolutely it had been. He was the envy of all his friends. And what was she? Just a memory, tucked away. A memory in the ancient dreams of the man she had completely forgotten and whose mansion on the hill she would never see nor care about. He was the success she would never know, and that made him proud and happy. Why would he ever cry himself to sleep about that? All of his dreams had come true.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Chosen
My name is Sarah Jones. I play volleyball and I love strawberries. I got mostly B's in high school, except history and American Literature, where I got A+s. I do well at something if I'm actually interested in it. I wanted to learn more about the military and about World War II. I have a dog named Champ who I train for agility competitions. He's pretty good, but he isn't quite living up to his name yet. And now, without me around to train him, I fear he never will.
They chose me, and I should be honored, but I know I'm never coming back home. I just want to be remembered by those I love and for those who don't even know me now to realize that I existed and that I did this to keep them safe. They keep telling me I'll be fine, that I have the training and skills necessary to come out alive. I don't believe that, and I suspect that deep down, they don't either, but I'm doing this anyway because no one has the skills and training necessary to come out of this alive.
I don't want accolades. It won't do me any good once I'm gone anyway. I just want people to know that someone is looking out for them. Today it's me. Tomorrow it will be someone else. Maybe it will even be one of them someday. You can enjoy life, love life, but don't cling to it too tightly. Be willing to give it up for the sake of others.
I'm not a hero. I'm just an ordinary girl. You might be ordinary, too, but you can still save the world, just like I'm about to do.
My family knows I love them, but tell them anyway. I know they'll cry, so don't tell them not to. Just tell me I did it for them and for me and for everyone, and I'll see them again. I know that I will.
They chose me, and I should be honored, but I know I'm never coming back home. I just want to be remembered by those I love and for those who don't even know me now to realize that I existed and that I did this to keep them safe. They keep telling me I'll be fine, that I have the training and skills necessary to come out alive. I don't believe that, and I suspect that deep down, they don't either, but I'm doing this anyway because no one has the skills and training necessary to come out of this alive.
I don't want accolades. It won't do me any good once I'm gone anyway. I just want people to know that someone is looking out for them. Today it's me. Tomorrow it will be someone else. Maybe it will even be one of them someday. You can enjoy life, love life, but don't cling to it too tightly. Be willing to give it up for the sake of others.
I'm not a hero. I'm just an ordinary girl. You might be ordinary, too, but you can still save the world, just like I'm about to do.
My family knows I love them, but tell them anyway. I know they'll cry, so don't tell them not to. Just tell me I did it for them and for me and for everyone, and I'll see them again. I know that I will.
The Most Amazing Girl
Will I ever be happy again? I loved her and I lost her. She was so cold. But as I ran my fingers through her hair a final time, tears streamed down my face. I said I would remember all the good times we'd had. I promised myself I wouldn't cry.
No matter how hard it gets, I will live on with my memory of how things used to be. Life is still worth clinging to. Life is still worth living.
She just seems weak and tired around me now. I miss seeing her bright, beautiful smile. The days get harder as she starts to slip away.
How could it be her fault? I try to tell her that it's not her fault. Now, I think she just feels guilty. She used to love spending time with me. She used to be full of life and joy. She used to be so hopeful, so long ago.
Sometimes, I still get to see her smile. Her smile makes it all worth it.
It's worth loving someone with your whole heart, even when you aren't sure how long they'll be around. I told her I would always be there for her, for as long as she would have me. She finally told me what was wrong. She cried in my arms tonight.
She should know how I feel, that I really care about her and what's happening. I've asked her what's wrong, but she seems afraid to talk about it. She's seemed distant recently, like she's not entirely there. I think it's good I didn't admit too much.
So I'll just enjoy this for what it is: an amazing adventure with the most amazing girl in the world. I'd hate to admit to something that she couldn't return to me. I know she feels something for me, but I don't know if it's the same as I'm feeling. Love is such an easy thing to feel and such a hard thing to admit to feeling.
She makes me a better person. She's so full of life and energy and joy. We treasure, but we also just have a lot of fun. We treasure our moments together. Even as time passes, it is still ridiculous how happy I feel around her.
This ridiculousness is a good thing, a wonderful thing. Others might make fun, but my feelings for her bring out the ridiculous. I don't know how else to describe it. It was like a waterfall crashing down into an oasis at the end of a rainbow. We had our first kiss today. It finally happened.
I'm not usually a shy person, but Lisa really messes with my head. How can I tell her how I feel?
I'm just enjoying what we have. Labels seem too simplistic for Lisa. We've done stuff with groups, but also with just the two of us. I don't know if we're dating or what. She agreed to hang out, but nothing was really well defined.
I know it's clique, but I think it's true. I think I might be falling in love. She's coy and flirty. She's just as amazing over the phone as in person. Her name is Lisa.
I'll probably call her tomorrow. By some miracle, I actually managed to get her phone number. It was an ordinary party until I noticed her. We met at a party. Though her eyes did seem to sparkle when we talked. But I'm not sure she really noticed me. Her smile said it all. Yet she went so much deeper than those surface attributes. She was everything I ever imagined: smart, funny, beautiful. I met the most amazing girl today.
No matter how hard it gets, I will live on with my memory of how things used to be. Life is still worth clinging to. Life is still worth living.
She just seems weak and tired around me now. I miss seeing her bright, beautiful smile. The days get harder as she starts to slip away.
How could it be her fault? I try to tell her that it's not her fault. Now, I think she just feels guilty. She used to love spending time with me. She used to be full of life and joy. She used to be so hopeful, so long ago.
Sometimes, I still get to see her smile. Her smile makes it all worth it.
It's worth loving someone with your whole heart, even when you aren't sure how long they'll be around. I told her I would always be there for her, for as long as she would have me. She finally told me what was wrong. She cried in my arms tonight.
She should know how I feel, that I really care about her and what's happening. I've asked her what's wrong, but she seems afraid to talk about it. She's seemed distant recently, like she's not entirely there. I think it's good I didn't admit too much.
So I'll just enjoy this for what it is: an amazing adventure with the most amazing girl in the world. I'd hate to admit to something that she couldn't return to me. I know she feels something for me, but I don't know if it's the same as I'm feeling. Love is such an easy thing to feel and such a hard thing to admit to feeling.
She makes me a better person. She's so full of life and energy and joy. We treasure, but we also just have a lot of fun. We treasure our moments together. Even as time passes, it is still ridiculous how happy I feel around her.
This ridiculousness is a good thing, a wonderful thing. Others might make fun, but my feelings for her bring out the ridiculous. I don't know how else to describe it. It was like a waterfall crashing down into an oasis at the end of a rainbow. We had our first kiss today. It finally happened.
I'm not usually a shy person, but Lisa really messes with my head. How can I tell her how I feel?
I'm just enjoying what we have. Labels seem too simplistic for Lisa. We've done stuff with groups, but also with just the two of us. I don't know if we're dating or what. She agreed to hang out, but nothing was really well defined.
I know it's clique, but I think it's true. I think I might be falling in love. She's coy and flirty. She's just as amazing over the phone as in person. Her name is Lisa.
I'll probably call her tomorrow. By some miracle, I actually managed to get her phone number. It was an ordinary party until I noticed her. We met at a party. Though her eyes did seem to sparkle when we talked. But I'm not sure she really noticed me. Her smile said it all. Yet she went so much deeper than those surface attributes. She was everything I ever imagined: smart, funny, beautiful. I met the most amazing girl today.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
My Vacuum Cleaner
My vacuum cleaner sucks. Well, in another sense, it doesn't suck at all. It just rolls along the carpet making noises that terrify the dog and failing to pick up any of said dog's loose hairs. Vreererere Vreeeereeer and my floor is still as dirty as ever and the dog is in the other room with his tail between his legs.
Maybe I should just get a new vacuum cleaner. But it's such a hassle. I have to figure out what to do with the old one. I have to research which brands are the best these days. I have to find a cost effective option that won't upset my husband. I mean, he doesn't care if the floor is dirty anyway. He works in a dirty construction site all day. He's part of the problem, tracking in all his dirt and grime, but it also means he doesn't really care if the floor is a mess. He's used to it at the site. I love the man, but he is a little bit of a slob.
But enough about my husband. Back to my vacuum cleaner. As much as it sucks or doesn't suck, it does hold a special place in my heart. It was a wedding present from my grandma nearly 8 years ago. She couldn't make it to the wedding, but she sent a new vacuum cleaner right to our threshold. My husband literally had to move the package out of the way before he could carry me over said threshold. It was a bear of a vacuum cleaner, but it worked really well. Really, really well. My floors ended up spotless, even with the dog fur and the tracks of construction dirt. Plus, it was from my precious grandma, who died about two years into our marriage.
It was all downhill from there, though. The vacuum started to decline not long after my grandma passed away. If it was a pet, I would say it missed her presence, even though she only came to visit our house once. Still, it was bizarre, as if it knew the person who had given it a home was gone and it just didn't want to function right anymore. It wasn't terrible at the start. I'd just notice a speck of dust here, a bit of fur there, but I could always just pick it up and toss it away. No big deal.
But lately... this thing just doesn't work at all. Said specks of dust and bits of fir are everywhere even after I've vacuumed over the carpet multiple times. I feel like I'm letting grandma down tossing out her gift and getting a new vacuum cleaner, but on the other hand, she gave me said gift so I could keep my house clean, and now I can't keep my house clean. Maybe she would want me to get a new vacuum cleaner.
I guess it's time to suck it up and start doing some research. Figure out what brand, what it will cost, how to sell it to my husband... Although... now that I think about it... maybe it just needs a new filter.
Maybe I should just get a new vacuum cleaner. But it's such a hassle. I have to figure out what to do with the old one. I have to research which brands are the best these days. I have to find a cost effective option that won't upset my husband. I mean, he doesn't care if the floor is dirty anyway. He works in a dirty construction site all day. He's part of the problem, tracking in all his dirt and grime, but it also means he doesn't really care if the floor is a mess. He's used to it at the site. I love the man, but he is a little bit of a slob.
But enough about my husband. Back to my vacuum cleaner. As much as it sucks or doesn't suck, it does hold a special place in my heart. It was a wedding present from my grandma nearly 8 years ago. She couldn't make it to the wedding, but she sent a new vacuum cleaner right to our threshold. My husband literally had to move the package out of the way before he could carry me over said threshold. It was a bear of a vacuum cleaner, but it worked really well. Really, really well. My floors ended up spotless, even with the dog fur and the tracks of construction dirt. Plus, it was from my precious grandma, who died about two years into our marriage.
It was all downhill from there, though. The vacuum started to decline not long after my grandma passed away. If it was a pet, I would say it missed her presence, even though she only came to visit our house once. Still, it was bizarre, as if it knew the person who had given it a home was gone and it just didn't want to function right anymore. It wasn't terrible at the start. I'd just notice a speck of dust here, a bit of fur there, but I could always just pick it up and toss it away. No big deal.
But lately... this thing just doesn't work at all. Said specks of dust and bits of fir are everywhere even after I've vacuumed over the carpet multiple times. I feel like I'm letting grandma down tossing out her gift and getting a new vacuum cleaner, but on the other hand, she gave me said gift so I could keep my house clean, and now I can't keep my house clean. Maybe she would want me to get a new vacuum cleaner.
I guess it's time to suck it up and start doing some research. Figure out what brand, what it will cost, how to sell it to my husband... Although... now that I think about it... maybe it just needs a new filter.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
One Day (Part 6)
One day you're here and the next you're gone. Chad usually didn't let such thoughts enter into his mind, but for some reason, this incident had hit him hard. He watched just long enough to make sure the team arrived to take the body away for the coroner, and then he turned and left, wiping the tear away from his eye before anyone saw. He wouldn't say a word to his wife when he finally got home. He didn't think he could. He was just going to hold her and tell her he loved her. That was the most important thing.
---
It was just one day, just one ordinary day, Sandeep thought. He looked up at the officer. "Could you repeat the question, please?" he asked. Sandeep was pretty sure the officer had been asking him about the gun, yet again, but he could barely focus. All these questions, and all this pain. It wasn't his pain, but he had caused it, and now somehow it was leaking back to him. Sandeep's lawyer had assured him there was nothing to be afraid of. Sandeep had been acting in self-defense. But still, Sandeep felt sick. He feared what would happen to his family if he got what he deserved. He felt guilt over what he had done, even though he felt at the time like he had to do it. Too late he had seen the fear in the man's eyes. Sandeep knew now that he didn't need to fire the gun. He would follow his lawyer's advise and never tell the police that, but he knew it to be true. Sandeep felt cold. A chill ran through his body and he wiped the sweat from his brow. If only he could turn back time... It might be okay for him, but for that other man... Sandeep felt sick.
---
One more day done. Jane climbed into bed and turned on the news. She didn't usually watch the news at night, but her fear drove her tonight. That man, that man she had seen at the store today, making the odd purchase, she was afraid of what might have happened to him. She just wanted to see, just make sure that his face wasn't on the news. The very first story, and Jane gasped.
---
One day is all it takes. Just one day for a life to be changed, or to be removed entirely. Jason sat on the curb outside the shelter. He knew there was no room, but he didn't know where else to go. He felt more alone than he had ever been. The shot of the gun still echoed in his mind. He didn't know what had happened, what had become of that other man, but he had heard the screams, the agonizing pain. He had caused that. It had been all his fault. One day. If he had been willing to wait just one more day... Thunder cracked and Jason looked up. The storm was rolling in. He was about to get drenched, but he didn't care. Maybe the sky would give up the tears he seemed unable to shed, the tears he should be crying. And then, he sensed a light behind him and turned around. The woman stood straight and tall, her hair in a neat but, her face stern, but somehow gentle. "Well come on in," she said. As if in a daze, Jason stood to comply. And then the tears came. One day. If he had just tried again this one day... apparently there was room. There was room for him this day.
---
One more day. How she wished she could have one more day. Sarah cried and cried and cried. They all hugged her, each one, but there were no words to say. He had been too young? Sarah knew that already. It wasn't fair? Well of course it wasn't fair. You shouldn't have sent him out to get supplies for the dinner you were supposed to be cooking for him? Of course no one would even dream of saying that, but Sarah was thinking it all the same. It was only one day since he was gone, but it felt like an eternity. Gone were any thoughts of the annual report. Gone were any thoughts of anything but how much she had loved him. And what had her last words been to him? Not that she loved. Not angry words, but still not that she loved him. She had said simply "2%, not skim." 2%, not skim. With those words, she had sent him to his death.
She couldn't have known. There was no way she could have known. That was the only thought that consoled her. Deep within, she knew it wasn't her fault at all. But still, it felt an awful lot like her fault. She tried to shift blame to the convenience store owner, but she knew it wasn't really his fault. She tried to shift blame to the surgeon, but she knew it was even less his fault. The closest she came was to shift blame to the robber, but somehow, she felt it wasn't even really his fault. He had just needed money, maybe for his own family, for his own wife. Though a part of her really hated him for running away like he had.
Sarah cried and cried and cried some more. One day. Maybe one day she would stop crying. But not today. Definitely not today.
---
It was just one day, just one ordinary day, Sandeep thought. He looked up at the officer. "Could you repeat the question, please?" he asked. Sandeep was pretty sure the officer had been asking him about the gun, yet again, but he could barely focus. All these questions, and all this pain. It wasn't his pain, but he had caused it, and now somehow it was leaking back to him. Sandeep's lawyer had assured him there was nothing to be afraid of. Sandeep had been acting in self-defense. But still, Sandeep felt sick. He feared what would happen to his family if he got what he deserved. He felt guilt over what he had done, even though he felt at the time like he had to do it. Too late he had seen the fear in the man's eyes. Sandeep knew now that he didn't need to fire the gun. He would follow his lawyer's advise and never tell the police that, but he knew it to be true. Sandeep felt cold. A chill ran through his body and he wiped the sweat from his brow. If only he could turn back time... It might be okay for him, but for that other man... Sandeep felt sick.
---
One more day done. Jane climbed into bed and turned on the news. She didn't usually watch the news at night, but her fear drove her tonight. That man, that man she had seen at the store today, making the odd purchase, she was afraid of what might have happened to him. She just wanted to see, just make sure that his face wasn't on the news. The very first story, and Jane gasped.
---
One day is all it takes. Just one day for a life to be changed, or to be removed entirely. Jason sat on the curb outside the shelter. He knew there was no room, but he didn't know where else to go. He felt more alone than he had ever been. The shot of the gun still echoed in his mind. He didn't know what had happened, what had become of that other man, but he had heard the screams, the agonizing pain. He had caused that. It had been all his fault. One day. If he had been willing to wait just one more day... Thunder cracked and Jason looked up. The storm was rolling in. He was about to get drenched, but he didn't care. Maybe the sky would give up the tears he seemed unable to shed, the tears he should be crying. And then, he sensed a light behind him and turned around. The woman stood straight and tall, her hair in a neat but, her face stern, but somehow gentle. "Well come on in," she said. As if in a daze, Jason stood to comply. And then the tears came. One day. If he had just tried again this one day... apparently there was room. There was room for him this day.
---
One more day. How she wished she could have one more day. Sarah cried and cried and cried. They all hugged her, each one, but there were no words to say. He had been too young? Sarah knew that already. It wasn't fair? Well of course it wasn't fair. You shouldn't have sent him out to get supplies for the dinner you were supposed to be cooking for him? Of course no one would even dream of saying that, but Sarah was thinking it all the same. It was only one day since he was gone, but it felt like an eternity. Gone were any thoughts of the annual report. Gone were any thoughts of anything but how much she had loved him. And what had her last words been to him? Not that she loved. Not angry words, but still not that she loved him. She had said simply "2%, not skim." 2%, not skim. With those words, she had sent him to his death.
She couldn't have known. There was no way she could have known. That was the only thought that consoled her. Deep within, she knew it wasn't her fault at all. But still, it felt an awful lot like her fault. She tried to shift blame to the convenience store owner, but she knew it wasn't really his fault. She tried to shift blame to the surgeon, but she knew it was even less his fault. The closest she came was to shift blame to the robber, but somehow, she felt it wasn't even really his fault. He had just needed money, maybe for his own family, for his own wife. Though a part of her really hated him for running away like he had.
Sarah cried and cried and cried some more. One day. Maybe one day she would stop crying. But not today. Definitely not today.
One Day (Part 5)
Chad looked up at the clock. 8:50pm. Just 10 more minutes until the next shift arrived, 25 minutes until he could get home to his wife. Things had been a bit rocky at home. With his wife getting up early and him working late, they barely had any time to spend together and their relationship had suffered. He wished he could fix things, just patch them up the way he so often did with his patients, but this wasn't an issue that could be fixed in just one day: it was a chronic, recurring issue that would require extended treatment to cure. Still, even ongoing treatments had to be faced on day at a time.
That was how Chad tried to view his marriage: one day at a time. He and his wife loved each other. He knew they did. They just needed to work at it, build their relationship, rekindle the romance. One day at a time.
Look at the clock. 8:52pm. Just 8 more minutes until the next shift arrived, 23 minutes until he got to go home.
That was when his pager exploded. With a frown he looked at it. Gun shot wound, surgery needed immediately.
Chad did not waste any more time pondering his personal life. As much as he loved his wife, he was willing to lose her if that was what it took to save lives. That was his duty as an ER surgeon. He rushed from his desk and darted down the hall to surgery room B to wash up.
That was how Chad tried to view his marriage: one day at a time. He and his wife loved each other. He knew they did. They just needed to work at it, build their relationship, rekindle the romance. One day at a time.
Look at the clock. 8:52pm. Just 8 more minutes until the next shift arrived, 23 minutes until he got to go home.
That was when his pager exploded. With a frown he looked at it. Gun shot wound, surgery needed immediately.
Chad did not waste any more time pondering his personal life. As much as he loved his wife, he was willing to lose her if that was what it took to save lives. That was his duty as an ER surgeon. He rushed from his desk and darted down the hall to surgery room B to wash up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)