“She Wanted Me To Help Her Bury Her Heart”- Part II
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She began to describe the cold freezing enclosure, she again found herself suddenly entering, after hearing ‘his’ words the other day! She described how familiar that enclosure had become!
She sat there, talking. I was trying to remain clam, quietly listening, while following her words, the sorrow in her eyes and the slow fainted tapping of her fingers. Her fingers would alternate softly between the edge of the table, and the side of her cup. Like a little scared prayer to The Gods, to have ‘his’ hand, her lover’s hand, there underneath hers! Instead of the edge of the table, or the edge of the coffee cup! But his hand wasn’t there…and her heart continued its rhythmic quiet weeping. All her fingers could cling on to, was a cold edge of an unassuming little square table, and a lukewarm..edge of a cup.
Her grace that I’ve always admired whenever she used to drop by for her coffee and chat! Was getting dragged down by the weights of her words, and chocked up tears…I wanted to pick it up.
Instead, little by little, I watched her beautiful grace weep! Who knew that someone’s grace could actually weep! Hers certainly did. Or was it her heart?! Doing all the weeping?! It started to get confusing…
All I knew was, hearing that thud noise of her heart’s broken pieces meeting the ground as she talked and talked, was getting louder and more frequent…And it didn’t take longer for me, until I could sense my own ‘anger’ rising! Its little bubbles, forming.
I wanted her to stop talking.
I wanted to scream ‘he’s not worth it’…
How could she be this blind?!
Photo: Marco Bianchetti/Unsplash