Unrevealing unravelling
Sometimes it's ironic how dangerous one's work can be, but what a simple, stupid death they end up having. It's like the suicidal man who decided to jump off the golden gate bridge with a noose around his neck and a gun to his temple. So he jumped, and pulled the trigger at the same time. The bullet cut the rope, and he fell - safely - into the waters below, where he was rescued by cops and sent to hospital. He died of hypothermia.
And though all these deaths are but statistical, they have a profound impact somewhere. Mr. Jumper, for instance, found himself a mention in the Darwin Awards.
I digress.
(Y'know, this post isn't really something I want to be writing. But I need to unbottle. That's why the words don't flow easily)
Big deep breath. Inhale, exhale.
Of all the men that I went out with, there was one that I would have simply died for. I loved him with every pore in me, and worshipped the ground he walked on. It was pure and genuine, and the best part? It was mutual.
Neither of us had much time to spend with each other. I would be busy conducting dance classes, and he would be busy conducting music classes. And of course, he was in the Merchant Navy, so I only got to see him for four months, every six months. But we were in a band together (he was lead guitarist, and I was vocalist/drummer) so we did get some time in together.
Where he was a Yo! boy, replete with gel in his hair (in the mid 90's!!), I was a paavam girl. He was as boistrously social as I was reserved, and he was as popular as I was unnoticed. And still, magic happened to happen.
It lasted less than a year. Some ten and a half months into our relationship, he was killed in a road accident. Irony again? He was only standing by the footpath, when drunken drivers lost control of their car and ran into/through/over him. More horrifying, it wasn't a spot death.
Slowly, and too quickly, I saw his life ebb away. From looking into glowing, lively eyes, I suddenly was looking down into dazed, anguished, pain-contorted eyes, and then at eyelids that refused to open. I went from being the hand-held to the hand-holder.
In three days, he opened his eyes, and began to speak, giving us all more than just glimmers of hope. But it was just his final goodbye - that's all he mustered up the strength for. He told his parents and sister that he loved them, and smiled his gorgeous smile.
And then, as we just sat there, enjoying his awakeness, he morse-coded "I love you. Marry me." to me. I grinned like a cheshire cat, and nodded and morse-coded "Yes. Kissing you" to him.
Four hours later, he hemorrhaged. I haven't ever been able to cry over him, and I don't think I ever will be able to either. Why? Don't ask me. All I know is that he just left a profound hollowness, that's all.
No one - and I mean NO one - knew about him, not even my then-closest friend (I really was a private person). Suddenly, the Internet has access to something even I didn't turn to for a long time.
Oh god.... I'm beginning to freak out now...
posted by La Eposa @ 7:23 PM
