My Parent's Reconciliation Vacation (excerpt from Proverbial Woman), Part VIII

“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. “Look at me, please…” he added. “When a man loves a woman he knows no boundaries. He ignores reason, and yet will trade every bit of his common sense for the absence of doubt. I never stop having feelings for you. Nor have I been able to excuse what you’ve done. But I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to get pass this.