The darkness one day at a time

August 30, 2011

I had a happy up-bringing. My mother was/is a manic depressant. I think she’s bi-polar. But at the time I thought she was just being a mother. My dad was thankful to be alive. And very in love with my mother. He didn’t expect either. And then he had two kids that he adored. A house of his own. He was a quiet man. Maybe the happiest person I ever knew. My mother had her own demons. But I am painting too bleak a picture. She was/is fun. Smart. A hard worker. But I know that others have not had such a life as me. This story was told to me by a woman I was involved with. She had some bad dreams. I don’t know if she ever resolved them. Or if she discovered the reason for her nightmares. Many people are like this I think. They deal with the darkness one day at a time.


The Wife


I was sixteen. He was tall. We went together. In high school. So we’d have company at parties. Taxis for each other. I hated to be alone.


He always smelled. Like a damp evening of lilacs. Virgin lips. He spoke. Of dreams. We tested out our hands. Our hopes sank. Deep into each other’s muscles. I felt warm within. The heart of the universe. Kisses like stars reached down through my sadness.


He used to tremble. In my arms. Coming. In my hands. Friends said we looked happy. Kicking up snow. Man. Clouds of laughter. Rising. From our mouths. ‘this must be love’. Only. The absence of loneliness.


Married. My dress. White as snow. Drizzle. In the afternoon air. My father ate. One cigar after another.


Flowers in my palms. Sweating. They began. To take root. Something was….


Missing. My mother said. Be patient. Emptiness would soon be replaced.


The night before. The church. The reception. The dream again. I am dragging a knife through a belly. My daddy. Is standing in front of me crying. My hands. Are almost inside his stomach. ‘daddy. It was an accident.’

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