Monday, December 11, 2006

It's as if someone's died

I've been spiraling, with neck ache and clenched jaws. Smoking half a cigarette instead of eating. With cold fingers I pace between the selection of varyingly uncomfortable chairs. And the most terribly poignant thing is not his absence from my side but the sheer noise that emulates from all the missing voices.

And watching them yesterday was like looking in a mirror hidden at the end of a six year long tunnel. At first I thought that I would not have seemed so timid but then I remember how I felt the first day his girlfriend walked into work and my stomach collapsed taking my breath with it. Amazing the way he managed to pull the buildings down around us all and walk out of the ruins unscathed. I guess he'd lost me already so ...

Well where do we go from here. The silences at the end of the phone don't seem to be dissipating, in fact they are gaining weight. I guess I'm hoping for another blow out, anything but this painful lack of recognition. She said 'its as if someone's died' and it's true, the passion that they 'dare not speak its name' for fear of feeding it, as if acknowledgement somehow offers condonement. It is not as if there is any illusion left. It is clear to me and to them that it was lies all the way, from every side.

But still I have to watch my daughter huddled between the two of them while I pretend it doesn't matter while the sound of missing voices gets louder and louder.