At the End of the Lane

There’s a chance this will never happen for me again. This moment could be the one still instance in time that I remember this feeling and appreciate absolutely everything that is surrounding me. There is so much hurry and hustle, and yet I feel calm. I feel myself and present. I feel alive, and it’s more than I could ever ask for in a time like this.

She looked up at me, and her eyes glistened. The part of her lips seemed to be a thing of dreams. She reached out her hand, and retracted it just as quickly. Was she unsure of me? I would think so, since we had just met. I would later find myself having a deep conversation with her about the intentions of unsuspecting people you want to believe are good and true. At some point, I would be the person that seemed to be a stranger to her, but that time will come and go. For now, we will stay in this moment where she has no way of deciding whether I’m trustworthy or dangerous.

When I touch her face, she reacts but then presses against my palm. When she looks up at me again with her tired eyes, I wonder how long her journey of life has been so far. Has it truly been these moments in this room with me? Has she lived multiple lives before? Is she who she presents herself to be at all? There are so many questions when strangers meet for the first time.

This is when I realize we are not strangers. We have known each other for some time, and our bond is on a path of growth. We have a lot to learn about each other, and it could take years before we fully understand the depth of our relationship. All I want for her to know about me is how much she means to me. And, to be honest, it may be impossible to show.

I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to think about routines or what I should or shouldn’t do in this situation. This is one time I wanted to be my true authentic self and not give a damn about what anyone else thought of me. If I cried because of her touch, I wanted others to feel my happiness. If I smiled because of her blink, I want others to reciprocate with a smile of their own. I want everyone to know how infectious she is. She is a love from another world.

For those few minutes, we were alone. All we had was each other and the space between the two of us. There was no judgment, no glares, or awkward looks. There was only peace, and that is so rare in these kinds of circumstances. Was I making it all up in my head? Did she feel the same way I did, or was she back in that other world still? When would she crossover to truly be with me?

The next thing happened–people came flooding into the room we were in. They were yapping, and calling out orders, and cackling, and being a general noise. They gave no acknowledgment of the power and strength that could be derived from the connection we had fostered in the room before they arrived abruptly. It was almost as if we were creating an energy field that was impenetrable, until it was by a gaggle of mindless talking boxes. You could feel the empathy and truth being sapped out of the room with every spoken word that came from their mouths. We looked into each other’s eyes, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was thinking. When would they go away so we could get back to solace?

Remembering that there was someone else that was part of this impactful experience almost shocked me back to reality. Almost. My wife was staring at me with tears in her eyes. She had no expression on her face. Her lips were not pierced, and her eyes were soft. It was a time when we both felt speechless, but also like there was so much that needed to be said all at once. And, even though we could’ve filled the void in that room with all of the outpourings of joy and confusion that we were feeling at the time, there was nothing that could be said that would be worthy of the moment.

The trough of invalids left the room in a frenzy, clanking metallic objects and slamming doors. It would only be a matter of time before they returned, so we had to be hasty with fulfilling our desires to have another moment of solitude and tranquility. This time, I sat down next to my wife. I sat down slowly as if I was going to crush her if I sat down too quickly. She kept her eyes on me, but only for the time when she watched me sit down. I felt as though if I sat down wrong, I might destroy her image of being the perfect man. I had to do this right. I had to do this carefully. I had to remember my purpose.

I got through the exasperating seating, and found my place next to my wife and this new woman in my life. I was nervous to try, but I desperately wanted to hold both of them at the same time. I wanted both women to know they were my life. They were my world. That I would never be able to choose between the two of them, and that the world works in a way that I may not even have to ever make that call. I was happy for that fact. I was happy to know that I may never have to choose between the two loves of my life. I was lucky that these women had a bond, and it was one that would always be stronger than any relationship they could ever have with me.

We never spoke until the next group came in and started asking questions. For the next 25 minutes, we sat with only the sound of a cool breeze emitting from the vent in the ceiling. There was the sound of footsteps outside the door, but it was never louder than a whisper. Inside the cocoon the three of us had made, we were living our best lives.

When you dream of having something you think is impossible, it can be hard to convert your mindset back to a place where there is light and achievability. Damning yourself leads to a life of damnation, and it doesn’t have to be that way. You can choose to believe. You can choose not to give up. You can choose to keep going in spite of everything that you have faced. You can take the horrible moments and put them away. You can take the opportunities and push them higher. And when you reach that space, time, and place you seek, revel in it. We never know how long those moments last.

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This short story is dedicated to Chris, Hayley & Frankie ❤️