My Life In Word

FINAL GOODBYE

She lay with her head on his chest, feeling the rise and fall and listening to the beating of his heart. She synced her breathing with his until their hearts were in unison. Occasionally, she would turn her head just so, to watch him sleep. In awe of his beauty, she was. She'd wonder how could a man be so beautiful inside and out. How could he ever truly want to turn this lover's delight into a committed relationship? Even though he knew her past and accepted her as she was, she felt unworthy. She loved him but at her core, she was conflicted.
 
She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It read 3:32am. She was contemplating her departure. Was she going to leave for the night or for good? She was torn. Her heart was breaking. A song softly playing on the clock radio broke the silence of her despair. It was Bonnie Raitt's, I Can't Make You Love Me. She lay there frozen and her eyes welled with tears. When she heard the words, Morning will come / And I'll do what's right / Just give me till then / To give up this fight / And I will give up this fight...the tears fell. She gently wiped them away. She held in the sob, not to wake him. But he felt a shift and like usual he pulled her closer, intertwined his legs with hers and kissed her on the forehead. To him, it was a night like every other. For her, it was filled with inner turmoil.
 
As the song was coming to an end, she sang softly to him, And here in the dark, in these final hours / I will lay down my heart / I will feel the power but you won't / No you won't…and she did. She laid down her heart and felt the power. A power so strong, that every fiber of her being burned. She whispered, "I love you" into his soul and said goodbye for good. She lay there a while longer cocooned in his embrace, so she could remember everything she didn’t want to forget. The way he smelled. The softness of his skin. The rhythm of his heartbeat. The scar on his chin, identical to hers. The scar on his knee from a childhood wound. His touch. His warmth. His kindness. The feel of the rise and the fall of his chest. Their first time and their last.
 
When she looked at the clock again, it was 4:57am. She knew if she didn’t leave right then, she wouldn't leave at all. Her love for him was greater than her heartache. But she found the courage. She gently loosened herself from his tender embrace. As she rose from the bed, he reached for her hand. She turned to see him smiling up at her. He asked, "You leaving?" She replied, "Yes." When she was fully clothed, she leaned over, kissed him one last time and said her final goodbye.
 
That night was her most regretful moment. Her regret was not the goodbye but that she never told him how she truly felt. She made a promise to herself some years later that she would always say what she felt and let the chips fall where they may.
 
It's been 30 years and he is still a part of the fiber of his being. She remembers the smell of his skin, the prickled feel of his stubble, his touch. His warmth. His kindness. The scar on his chin. On occasion, she will allow herself to travel to that celestial place where souls meet. Her soul lies next to his and she again is cocooned in his embrace, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and listening to his heartbeat. She syncs and they become one again for a moment.
 
Guess she never really said goodbye because her love lingers on.

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by DDP on Unsplash

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