Red Balloon
Today is hard. But don't I say that every day?
It's been 5 weeks to the day since you dropped the bomb on everything.
2 weeks ago today we were to wed. This time (1:06am) on that day would have been deep into our wedding night. Waves crashing on the beach outside the open doors of our room, beyond the private pool and deck. I would know what your dress looks like by now... but now I'll never even see it at all. Never see the perfection of your curves in it. Your smile in the sun, bare feet in the sand, bouquet in hand. I would have cried my eyes out in happiness. I actually haven't cried in all of this. A friend said that she thinks some things hurt so badly that even tears can't do it justice. I think she is profound. So much gone. So much lost. So pointless.
Tonight too many of the really bad thoughts keep winning. The images of the hands of other men gliding over the body of my wife. You smiling up at them. The images of your hands on them... and worse... always so much worse. The things that were such an intense core (for me) of the intimacy I built only with you. Built so effortlessly from the first moment we met... well, met "properly" anyway.
I have felt close to others, but never so wrapped around someone, never with them being such an entwined part of me. I don't know how to untangle that... nor do I want to. It was the best thing I have ever felt in this life... letting it go feels like a child letting go of the string on a balloon. The sole thing you have in hand that brings true happiness to your life... and now I watch as each second carries it farther and farther from my grasp, never to return. It's still so close... still within sight... but with each day it retreats from my vision. Fades ever so slightly, but is clearly lost forever.
I laugh mockingly at myself, thinking of the plans I was making on the night of July 4th. MDMA in my veins, ensuring the Supermen were still stronger than a locomotive. Planning the show we would see sometime during the two weeks before our flight to paradise. Planning the show we would again see once we were in front of the crashing waves. On a night just like this, perhaps. What a fool I was.
That thought haunts me: "For exactly how long had I been such a fool?"
"How do you make God laugh?"
"Make a plan"
Such a fool. The things I was imagining... both for this summer... and for the rest of my life. Plans I was making, unaware that they had already all been cancelled in your mind. The balloon string had already slipped from my fingers... it had already drifted beyond my reach... and here I am, blissful in the sea of happy designs for the future. A future that was already gone... as I smiled and eagerly awaited your return. Eagerly awaited the days we would spend taking care of last-minute details. Eagerly awaited the early drive to the airport. Eagerly awaited the butterflies as we would sit, hand-in-hand, counting the minutes until we boarded the plane. Eagerly awaited toasting the first drink. Eagerly awaited the first step into the room, into the pool, onto the sand and into the ocean. Eagerly awaited feeling the weight of that tungsten on my finger. Eagerly awaited hearing my voice inevitably falter and hot tears wash down my cheeks as I told you (as I always have) precisely what you meant to me, only this time it was to be etched in stone. Unbreakable, impenetrable. Making the promise I knew I would forever keep: to always be right there; to love you; to make you happy until the absolute last beat of my heart. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. Eagerly awaiting the first time I got to use the words "My wife"... even better in some mundane statement... "Yeah, we'll meet you guys for dinner... let me ask my wife how quickly she can be ready".
Eagerly awaited a future that was already impossibly out of reach without me even being aware.
All I could do is look in desperation at that balloon string already just out of reach.
Receding.
Forever receding.
Forever.
It's been 5 weeks to the day since you dropped the bomb on everything.
2 weeks ago today we were to wed. This time (1:06am) on that day would have been deep into our wedding night. Waves crashing on the beach outside the open doors of our room, beyond the private pool and deck. I would know what your dress looks like by now... but now I'll never even see it at all. Never see the perfection of your curves in it. Your smile in the sun, bare feet in the sand, bouquet in hand. I would have cried my eyes out in happiness. I actually haven't cried in all of this. A friend said that she thinks some things hurt so badly that even tears can't do it justice. I think she is profound. So much gone. So much lost. So pointless.
Tonight too many of the really bad thoughts keep winning. The images of the hands of other men gliding over the body of my wife. You smiling up at them. The images of your hands on them... and worse... always so much worse. The things that were such an intense core (for me) of the intimacy I built only with you. Built so effortlessly from the first moment we met... well, met "properly" anyway.
I have felt close to others, but never so wrapped around someone, never with them being such an entwined part of me. I don't know how to untangle that... nor do I want to. It was the best thing I have ever felt in this life... letting it go feels like a child letting go of the string on a balloon. The sole thing you have in hand that brings true happiness to your life... and now I watch as each second carries it farther and farther from my grasp, never to return. It's still so close... still within sight... but with each day it retreats from my vision. Fades ever so slightly, but is clearly lost forever.
I laugh mockingly at myself, thinking of the plans I was making on the night of July 4th. MDMA in my veins, ensuring the Supermen were still stronger than a locomotive. Planning the show we would see sometime during the two weeks before our flight to paradise. Planning the show we would again see once we were in front of the crashing waves. On a night just like this, perhaps. What a fool I was.
That thought haunts me: "For exactly how long had I been such a fool?"
"How do you make God laugh?"
"Make a plan"
Such a fool. The things I was imagining... both for this summer... and for the rest of my life. Plans I was making, unaware that they had already all been cancelled in your mind. The balloon string had already slipped from my fingers... it had already drifted beyond my reach... and here I am, blissful in the sea of happy designs for the future. A future that was already gone... as I smiled and eagerly awaited your return. Eagerly awaited the days we would spend taking care of last-minute details. Eagerly awaited the early drive to the airport. Eagerly awaited the butterflies as we would sit, hand-in-hand, counting the minutes until we boarded the plane. Eagerly awaited toasting the first drink. Eagerly awaited the first step into the room, into the pool, onto the sand and into the ocean. Eagerly awaited feeling the weight of that tungsten on my finger. Eagerly awaited hearing my voice inevitably falter and hot tears wash down my cheeks as I told you (as I always have) precisely what you meant to me, only this time it was to be etched in stone. Unbreakable, impenetrable. Making the promise I knew I would forever keep: to always be right there; to love you; to make you happy until the absolute last beat of my heart. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. Eagerly awaiting the first time I got to use the words "My wife"... even better in some mundane statement... "Yeah, we'll meet you guys for dinner... let me ask my wife how quickly she can be ready".
Eagerly awaited a future that was already impossibly out of reach without me even being aware.
All I could do is look in desperation at that balloon string already just out of reach.
Receding.
Forever receding.
Forever.
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