Thursday, September 27, 2012
An Unlove Story - Part 2 of 3
Sorry if I wasn't clear in the last post - this is a 3 part story. Part 1 is here.
And then. When she called him that last time it was to tell him she couldn't cope with his darkness. A darkness he was unprepared to do anything about. It was affecting her life, her business. His anger flared. She heard the sharpness of his breathing. He said she didn't understand the depths of his despair over his financial situation, he was going to have to sell everything. She was unsympathetic, pragmatic. Well, of course he did, she responded. She had reviewed all his documents. Yes, sell, of course. His response was to yell that this was all he had ever worked for. Hard. And now he was losing it all, and she didn't care.
After that, there was a long silence, where she felt hot tears spring to her eyes. She knew there was no more to be said. But she waited for him to retreat from this moment, this outburst, to fix it with a sorry, but he didn't. And finally he was the one who hung up and she held the phone to her ear until the automated ladyvoice came on telling her to hang up now.
That's the thing though. In this social networking age, isn't it? Does anyone really pull the plug? She didn't. Maybe it was the writer in her, she had to know what happened next. Of course she did. Plus she'd always had difficulty letting go of people who held importance in her life. Even abusers. Serious difficulty. The hope of change in those who hurt her. Of their one startling moment of awareness which would slide them back into the shared envelope of love. Foolish and infantile, she knew.
So they would email each other the odd time. Updates on life. And then the announcement of his re-marriage three years ago. To someone who understood him. He had “searched the world” for such as she. Had travelled from Hawaii to Singapore and then to Vancouver where he found her. Connie was his true soulmate.
Connie was easy to find on Facebook, linked as Jack's friend. Their wedding was on a yacht. A pretty woman in a lovely wedding dress. Her daughter as bridesmaid. Her passion for him was evident. “Darling”, “sweet”, “special”, were frequent adjectives used in the photo captions.
She congratulated Jack. And meant it. And she closed the door. But sometimes she wondered idly why her romance had foundered while theirs thrived. As one does. As she did. But it was truly over now and she moved on. Fiercely. Firmly.