“I can see you are starting to feel uneasy. Well, I’ve been feeling that way for some time now. On the surface I’ve been trying to stay calm for some time now. Here. Reach over and feel my heart,” he motioned as he lifted himself up out of his chair, and leaned inward.
“What do you feel?” he asked.
“I feel an erratic beat…” she replied, placing her hand on his heart.
“Indeed you do. Indeed you do…” he added, embellishing her response. “That is exactly the way I’m feeling. Uncertainty. And that is what I believe you are trying so hard to hide behind those beautiful eyes of yours. You should know by now they speak volumes to me when it comes to your emotions.”
“Why do you say these things while all the time knowing how my heart is going to react? You know exactly what to say, and at what point to say it. I think you get a kick out of reading me the way you do.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he injected.
“No. But it would help if I sometimes had a warning. It is just that you have a way of soothing the pain every time. I don’t know whether to pour out my heart or just ask you what I’m feeling.”
Suddenly realizing where the conversation was heading. As a way of deterring her increasing feeling of anxiety, she aimlessly reached for her drink while nearly spilling it. Sensing anguish growing out her desire to purge her soul, his eyes subtly drew focus on her as she struggled to find the right words to say.
“Tim, I’m so sorry. I’m also hurting behind this. I’m hurting more than you can ever imagine,” she apologetically whispered, anticipating his reaction.
“Well how do you think I feel? What am I to do? I’m beyond hurting. To be truthful, I’m broken-hearted!” he angrily injected. “I came into this marriage with an open mind and heart. I wouldn’t have expected anything like this from you. But then again I guess one never knows what their love ones are capable of. I don’t even know if I’m capable handling this kind of pain.”
“Can I speak,” she interrupted. “Can I at least say what is on mind? Don’t you even want to hear what I’ve been going through?”
“Yes. Go ahead. I’m listening…” he replied in an irritable tone, before taking a sip.
“I really do value what we have. And I’ve realized no one can take the place of my husband, the man I fell in love with nineteen years ago. I made the mistake of thinking I could find an earlier version of you in someone else. He started as someone who would give me attention and flowers, just as you did in the past. But you…you knew to send Baby-Pink roses, my favorite. And only you know how I liked my bath drawn. And when to leave me to myself when I'm having a not-so-good day.”
“I understand,” he cautiously asserted, as she paused before continuing.
“Now, I’m not saying he didn’t give me enough of the attention I believe I so rightfully deserves. But it’s just that when it is coming from the one you’ve endured love with, it just feels different. With you I’ve never once felt as much as an object, as I did a woman who is someone’s wife and mother. I just wanted to feel all those things again, together, at the same time. But. Just like any other woman who would say this to the man she loves – it just don’t feel as good without the one who has been there with you through it all. There is a comforting kind of intimacy that comes from sharing the journey.”
“Rose…” he tenderly murmured, as he searched his heart.
“Yes.” she answered, staring into his eyes.
“I could never imagine taking you for granted. Though I know in my heart I should’ve been there more times than I was, I really lost focus of what really mattered most. If my heart has failed in showing you that I was wrong for not being there for you, then you should know that I’m very sorry as well.
I’ve been such a fool. You’ve given two beautiful daughters. Each time when I saw you hold each one for the first time, I fell in love with all over again. Just like when we first met. And now, even after all these years, and what has happen between us. I’m still in love with you.
I would rather choose you than to be with anyone else, even if it means starting over. I know nothing stays the same. And I also know if what we have is true love, then it is worth enduring. Those are the marriages that last.” He added.
Momentarily peering down at her drink as her thoughts swayed back and forth. Slowly lifting her head as a provoking thought subtly pricked her curiosity. In a brief moment of chance their eyes interlocked, as she began to speak.
“Enduring…”she surprisingly repeated.
“Yes, enduring…” he remarked, in a more sobering tone. “Like those candles…” he gestured, nodding at the two sitting before them. “Notice how they are flickering, which is probably the result drafts coming from somewhere. Imagine we are those candles. And their flames represent the love we share. The draft or drafts…however many there may be, represents circumstances and trials of our love. Every time you see those flames withering, they are either being tempted or tested to some degree. No matter how many drafts or how many trials they endure, it will always be the resilience of its unyielding flame feeding on a source of perpetual power that gives it its will to sustain its true form.”
“So, I’m assuming that perpetual power is love. Or that part of nature that helps us to breathe…oxygen?” she inquisitively added.
“Yes. You can look at it that way, if you like. But what I’m saying is, it is that kind of love that I need in order to survive. As a source of my will I need the women I love…my wife, and my two daughters. You guys are the loves of my life. The source of my breathing…if you will.”
With tears forming in the wells of her eyes as she peered down into the supple glow of the light, her thoughts aimlessly drifted in and out of her realm of reason while toiling with her emotions.
She knew exactly what he was saying as his heart conveyed to her in a language only the two of them could understand. As her perspective began to take shape, deep down inside she began to realize how much damage she may have caused to something as beautiful and special as the love he has for her.
Sensing the burden of his anguish bearing down upon the course of her thoughts, slowly he began to speak once more. Though just as he was about to continue, she turned away and momentarily looked down unto the floor, before turning back exposing the depth of her pain in her eyes.
“Sweetheart,” he softly murmured.
