Fear and Love

FEAR

noun

  1. an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something dangerous is likely to cause pain, or a threat.

LOVE

noun

  1. an intense feeling of deep affection.
  2. a great interest and pleasure in something.

They made love in the shower. She had somehow developed a kind of a ritual with him; it was either kissing for the longest time or making love. She would just jump on it – start her music with the little waterproof speaker and then wash herself. When the warm water passed through her hair, she would face the wall and close her eyes. His timing was almost perfect every time. The moment she would turn around, he would be inside the shower, grabbing her by the waist, kissing her on the lips, and moving his way down her neck, shoulders, chest, and breasts. She would melt and get carried away every single time. She loved him. This time, they were making love in a different shower. They had traveled for the weekend to a lake house they had rented on a website, and the shower was rather uncomfortable, so he turned off the water, and she understood immediately – it was time to take this to bed. Their hair and bodies were all wet, but they didn’t care, and all the sheets got soaked. He loved to look her straight into her eyes, and she always felt staggered by him doing this, even after all this time together. He was too much, he knew her too well, he felt too much, he craved too much, he needed too much. He was too much. 

Making love to him always left her with no energy. Was he an incubus? She fell asleep right after, over the damp sheets.

An energy woke her up with a scream. He knew about her nightmares, but this one felt different. A fear surrounded her, and she started crying profusely. He held her in his arms, and she felt that horrible energy taking over the entire room, the entire house. 

“I’m so afraid I’ll lose you,” she said.

“Don’t worry. What did you dream?”

“I don’t even remember. I just feel like I’m going to lose you. We’ve come so far, we’ve worked so hard for this. I’m just so afraid this will end, but I don’t know why. I just feel like I’m going to lose you, and it’s so scary.

He kissed her forehead and said, “Please, don’t worry. I’m right here.”

She had to take a very long trip as soon as they got back home. They made promises to talk to each other as much as possible while she was far away, and 15 days later she was about to get back to see him. They were ready to meet, and he had said he had a surprise for her, but somehow it sounded distant, weird.

When they finally met, it was all very theatrical like they loved to do. He had also taken the time to travel while she was away, and gifts were given, exchanging places and spaces that reminded them of each other, heartfelt moments and Polaroids of the places they shared, even when they were apart. 

A lamp

Stamps

A Hat

Figurines

Origami paper

Erasers

Candy

And a book… 

Walking Trough Walls, a memoir by Marina Abramović. The moment she saw it, she started to cry. He had never read the book, neither did she, but she got the subliminal message that she was pretty sure he didn’t even realized he had given to her with the book.

She was Marina. He was Ulay. And it was time.

Somehow, her fear had become a reality. But it had to happen. She knew it, she just waited for him to say it. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I just can’t be with someone I don’t love anymore.”

“I understand,” she answered softly. 

Have you ever heard those stories of people that have close to death experiences? And how their whole life flash in front of them? 19 years flashed in front of her on a second. The good, the bad, the ugly, all. Nineteen years. They had been together for 19 years. She knew it was over. She knew the love was there, but it was different. She knew the fear was there, and it was real.

And that was it. She got up and walked away. To never look back again. To start walking her own path without him. Without fear, just filled with love a different one, but still LOVE.

Responder

Introduce tus datos o haz clic en un icono para iniciar sesión:

Logo de WordPress.com

Estás comentando usando tu cuenta de WordPress.com. Salir /  Cambiar )

Google photo

Estás comentando usando tu cuenta de Google. Salir /  Cambiar )

Imagen de Twitter

Estás comentando usando tu cuenta de Twitter. Salir /  Cambiar )

Foto de Facebook

Estás comentando usando tu cuenta de Facebook. Salir /  Cambiar )

Conectando a %s