…and she loved him so much…

(The following  story was first published 1 October 2012, it was rewritten 2013. Now I’ve rewritten it again and change the title)

He left her. She didn’t die. As she had feared she would do. Time just moved on and so did she. One day, half a year after he left her she read a gossip in a magazine online about George Clooney, where he was alleged to have said in an interview – as he had his 50th birthday the year before and was single again – he felt lonely sometimes in empty nights. And it was a photo of him too with that special face and creepy charmer smile saying: “yes I know I am very good looking man and my smile is so appealing and charming, so like me and love me, please”. And this his charisma made her recall the man she had loved so much, and how instantly he approached people with his big smile and nice face. He had come into her barren and deserted heart and filled it to the brim, and right from the start she was so deeply in love with him.

He got people so easily to like him with his charm, but even though it was what he wanted, his frustration and anger soon came next. “Everybody wants something from me”, and “They want to eat me”, he said very often to her, and he looked both flattered and disgusted. And then came those unpredictable occasions lacking any sense, when he seemed to live out the pressure in him into outburst of rage, and he walked around in the rooms in his apartment and beat on doors and walls, screaming and shouting out his wrath and scared her with his angry and humiliating words and absurd allegations. He forced her into crying and even breakdowns, that almost frighten her as much as he did. But it didn’t stop him, only made him feel offended by her, and furious he demanded apologies from her. And he attacked her even more, when she refused to give him any. And finally she could not take more and rushed down the stairs and back to her apartment, then crying all night. But she still loved him. So much.

With time everything that happened allowed her to see his soul and it was such a sad and depressing sight. It was like standing in the door to an empty and burned out room. One could see some fragments of trash on the floor, most of the walls were black with soot, the fire had burned out long time ago and the smell of it had vanished and there was nothing left in the atmosphere, but silence and emptiness. Still one could see it once was a room for home life, but everything in it and all trace of him were gone. But she still loved him. So much.

Yet he had a tightened mind, and clear memories of a while he had a life and his soul was in God, and he tried desperately to bring back life and sentiment into those memories, in order to get rid of his callousness in his present life. Meanwhile he imitated how he recalled what it was like to live and socialize. He thought he could fool himself and others to believe he was a living among living. No charmer smile could, however, help him those painful moments when he faced his truth. He was what he was, abused since an infant and never gotten the love and care he needed during growth, dealing with unspeakable horror as an adult and never getting peace anywhere. There was no mercy for him, and he was shown such an empty and lonely creature he was in a barren and inhuman world. And so he had his times of deep and boundless anxiety when he never wanted to see anyone for hours or days. And all he afterwards could do to explain his absences, was to say he had been sick, and often he was it too, as he didn’t take care of himself properly. Or that other people fussed with him and caused him problems, and often it was like that too, as he never were there he should be and did what he should do, and never could follow a line. And everything in his life was a mess all the time, all the time. And his head ached. And his stomach ached. And he could not sleep. And the horrors he been through haunted him in flashing images behind his eyeballs. And he brutally shoved her away. But she still loved him. So much.

Beaten into pieces by the evil and violence in this world, and cruelties no one ever should have to witness, so he was and so he is and so he will be. But still he is only one of millions crushed and broken humans coming as refugees to distant countries. Still they all need sweet loving caring from someone special, still they all are unable to cope with it. What will we do with all those damaged people when love is the need and yet cannot be of any help? She stood as an outsider and could not take him on her, and still she loved him and got him all over her and it almost killed her. But she still loved him. So much.

So she helped him out, what else could she do, and he managed to get the degree to move on to university. In future he wanted to work to give others a better life, so he had told her. She had her doubts about it. But maybe he will make it, she thought to herself. After all, he was still pretty young. But the thought of losing him made her feel devastated, like life was over for her. When she talked about her fear they would lose contact, he said it would only happen if they wanted it to happen. And that was all with that.

At the time of his move from town and all doings with that she met some of his friends, and she could not avoid to be confronted with he was nothing but white lies and evasions. And a slight incident became too much, and she just couldn’t make it any more. She collapsed and cried two days straight off and nonstop. Because she could cope with the most, but not with lies. And when they met after those two days and when he held her tight, she started to cry again and now again – she simply couldn’t stop. But he held her all the way through, and didn’t push her away this time. And then he made her some herbal tea with honey and they sat in silence in his living room with only the light from the street lamp outside the window, and she said quietly “I love you, you know”. And he said “and I love you too, but I wish you would trust me…” And she said “Yes, but I don’t”. But after that night she was calm and cried no more.

When she at rare occasions after he left pondered about all what went on between them, and feelings of hate wounded and ate her for how bad he had treated her, she reminded herself he always had an open door for her, and that he for a time was her best friend. She could drop by every single day, for tea and talk or just sneak in and creep under his blanket and put her arms around his solid body, and in his arms she felt as secure as a newborn baby in its mother’s arms. And she was complete happy just to breathe his sweet breathing. And ever after, her empty hands and arms couldn’t forget how lovely it had been to touch him. And how much she had loved him.

But he left and half a year passed by, and he never kept in touch. And she did not die. But recovered! One day being online she read in a net paper about that Clooney guy. And this reading reminded her of him, the man she once had loved. So much!

And when she then looked at the photo of this carefree smiling man Mr. Clooney, she could hardly believe it was true she once had fallen for that kind of charming lad! But it was the same for her as for the glossy guy in the net paper, she too felt lonely sometimes at nights.

A year went by – and so one day he stood at her front door and surprised her with a visit. And he stepped in and smiled and said “you’re looking good!” But she didn’t, she could see in the hall mirror behind him. She had become fat. And then he sat in her sofa and talked about his life and his problems. And that was all there was: his life and his problems! He said he would visit some friends and family and then come back later the same evening to her. She looked at him and he was so familiar – and still he was a stranger. And he waited for her to touch him, she could see that. But she kept the distance. And she let him go and locked her door and was thinking for a while. Then she called him on phone and said “don’t come back anymore”.

Up in the air 2009em-low114971.jpgem-low114971.jpg

This entry was posted in living in the world, love story, prose poem, rebellious lovers and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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