|The day you opted for Frankl's The Doctor and the Soul rather than learning your knots for fire fighter school.|
He quotes Goethe, and I hand her chocolates in a chipped bowl. I've already planned to say so I do say, "All I had were these chocolates. I wanted to get a gallon of vodka for you, but I was scared if I went to the store I would want something too. And this bowl is chipped, and I thought this was perfect because life is imperfect. Right?"
And I immediately hate myself because that's so trite. I want to fix something, but I can't.
So she fixes me because she takes those chocolates, hugs and tries to laugh but of course it ends up in a cry and yes, can time just go back a couple of days.
"This can't be real. Right? Not real. I don't want it to be real."
And all I can think is someone please give this woman some vodka or a pill to help her sleep.
So I pray a ridiculous prayer for two days.
I just want him to show her that he's okay.
My pulse dropped from 80 to 60 though my blood pressure stayed the same.
Damn numbers. Damn pill.
A storm came. A wind and thunder and rain and I know heaven is supposed to be about some peace, some wild unknowable tranquility. But him, the way he would have let her know that he was now energy was to show her how pissed he was to have had to leave her.
If we came here to love I would say that that guy and his wife did it with a vengeance as if they were out to prove something.
You think that's a delusion and I say I love that you think what you want to.
Today I am grateful for my delusion.