Sunset of a Dream
Where do broken dreams go to?
Those shattered shards upon the ground
Those glittering memories they seem so few
And broken hearted tears threaten to drown.
He sat in his chair gazing into the distance, remembering a time when he had known great joy in his life. A tear ran down his cheek as visions of better times sprang into his mind. He is old now and pain seems so much worse.
They had met in a coffee lounge. Fascinated by her T-Shirt which was covered in hand written graffiti, the names of bands and artists, mainly from a time before she was born, he wondered whether she actually knew who these people were, or the music they had played.
He approached her and introduced himself, which in itself had been out of character, he being by nature a shy and introverted person. Very soon they were deep in conversation, discussing the styles of Clapton, BB King, Jimi Hendrix and all the rest. He felt a deep attraction for her starting to crowd his thoughts, an attraction that had developed to the point where he knew he had fallen for her in a big way. But he had fought his feelings; she was so much younger than he. He did not know her age until he was told that she was turning 24. He was in his forties, twenty two years older. He felt cheated that they had not met in another time and place.
His own marriage had been ended some time prior. He was still living in the family home, mainly the result of his trying to salvage what little there might be, but after twenty odd years he had finally realised that his life was just drifting away, so he felt no guilt over his developing love for this young lady he had met.
They would meet every day at the coffee lounge and just talk. For many months he did not tell he how he felt about her. He would just talk and then go home, sit in his shed, play the Blues and weep.
Finally, one day, he decided that his marriage could not be salvaged after so many years of trying, so he decided to leave. He had booked into a caravan park with the intention of finding a house to live in. He never moved into the caravan.
One evening a week before he was to move, he went to see the woman he truly loved and spilled out his feelings for her. He also told her that although he loved her, he would always be her friend if she felt otherwise. He asked her to move into a house with him, even if it meant that she would just be a friend. He had already taken a step backwards when she had become engaged to another. But when that engagement had ended he had been a friend to her when he had started stalking her.
She had not hesitated, taking up his offer and a couple of weeks later they moved into the house together with her three children.
A month later, she had come to him, throwing her arms around his neck, she said. “You know, I would like to get married and have your child.”
He had at first been taken aback by her rather out of the blue proposal but he had said Yes!
Their life had become an adventure. He took her everywhere on his Harly, they shopped together, life for him, for the first time in many years, had become worth living. He was so deeply in love with her and the children that other things just did not seem to matter.
But all was not smooth. He felt a deep sense of guilt by leaving his daughter Krystel with her mother, his ex-wife. He silently wept over her loss, going into the shower so no-one would see his tears. His other children would ring him and abuse his for leaving their mother, even though they had also left because of the arguments between their parents. But his youngest was his most precious of all. His heart felt broken when he heard how she had cried at his leaving. She would set a place for him at the dinner table every night, just in case he came home again.
A year and a four months after moving in together, he married his new love. They were married in the garden. She had looked so beautiful coming down the ramp in her wedding dress, to the tune of “I Walk the Mile” The sun seemed to shine from her eyes and he had felt his heart seem to explode within him as his eyes took in the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld. He remembered how her high heels had sunk into the soft earth as she set foot onto the grass. She had smiled, and without losing step, head held high, she had just kept coming and his love for her deepened even further.
They had said it would not last, but they had a dream and it seemed that nothing would wake them from that dream. Little did he realise that sometimes dreamers can wake up.
They had moved from the little town where they had met and were now living in the city. In the intervening period they had become parents to a beautiful little girl. She had been very sick and when they were married, their daughter had been in Hospital, lying in an oxygen tent, looking so frail. It broke his heart to see her like that, not being able to pick her up and hold her also reminded him that his other children had not wanted to come to his wedding. He had understood why, but he felt the pain just as much. He thought about how much he missed his Krystel, about how much he wanted her to be with them. That night, while his new wife slept, he went into the shower and wept.
He remembered the Honeymoon. How they had gone out to dinner and she had acquired food poisoning from the Cajun prawns, she had been sick for two days. He remembered their motel room, pictures of naked men on the wall, mirrors on the ceiling and the realisation that the motel was used regularly by the local Hookers. All night, while his love lay sleeping and sick, he would be woken by the sound of cars coming into the motel driveway, the “Clip clop” of high heels, hurried whispers in the night and a short time later the process would be repeated as they left with their clients.
Shortly after they were married, he became very depressed, mainly over the loss of his Krystel. He became demanding and things happened that should never have happened. He had believed that she was happy in their adventures, but it turned out that he was wrong and he became more and more depressed. He felt that he had to do things to make her happy, never seeing the truth that she was becoming more and more depressed herself.
They received a shock when they were told that their son had cancer. He had been born with “Retinae Blastoema”. A cancer in the eye that was about to enter his brain. The operation was a success but he lost an eye.
One day he realised just much they had damaged the dream. The dream seemed broken, they were waking up, and so he tried to change things. Tried to recapture what had gone before, but he seemed to be losing the battle.
He would cook and clean for her and the children, doing most of the household chores believing he was taking the load from her. He did these things as a way of showing her just how much he loved her For twelve years he did this, and things seemed to get better. They seemed happy again and he believed they had crossed the hurdle of pain that they had both been experiencing. They were living a different kind of adventure. It was an adventure of discovery. Discovering each other, but she never really told him how she felt about the past, so he did not know. He had tried to put the past behind them, but no matter how much he tried, he wept for what they had gone through. He believed he had hurt her and could not forgive himself. They had hurt each other and even though they had seemed happy, they never told each other about their pain.
Just after their eleventh Anniversary, he had leaned across their bed to kiss he goodnight, when she suddenly jumped out of the bed crying out “Don’t touch me, I don’t love you anymore”
Bewildered he tried to calm things down; weeping himself he tried to find out what had gone wrong.
He kept asking “Why? Why? As he wept.
But she kept repeating, over and over those words that shattered the dream,
“I don’t love you!”
They had some arguments, not loud or violent, just point scoring where more things were said, mainly out of spite and hurt, but they were said nevertheless, so they hurt each other even more.
He loved her so deeply that he could not grasp the meaning of those words, or why she had said them. He cried in his sorrow without end, trying to mend what had been broken. He had never been unfaithful to her, always putting her and the children before all else, He had never been violent, either verbally or physically, towards her. Had never abused Alchohol or drugs and had always treated her with love and tenderness, so he did not understand, until the past was born again, and once again the sorrow and depression set in.
After six months, they had started to progress toward reconciling the past with the present and their relationship began to improve, or so he thought. They started to go out together again; they showed each other affection and love. He had never, nor could he, stop loving her. His love for her was so great that he believed nothing could take it away.
Although things seemed to improve, he still had feelings of insecurity, fearing that a wrong word would drive her away. So he did his utmost not to upset her, so she would not yell and swear at him again. Their life appeared to return to normal, for a short time anyway.
Exactly one year after the first outburst, she started to show signs of returning to the happenings of the year before. He just tried harder. Telling her how much he loved her. But she rejected his words, his embrace, even refusing to hold his hand when he was in pain from his arthritis. He tried to comfort her but she pushed him away.
He remembered how, as a means of shedding his pain and fear of losing her, he wrote about his anger in an online Blog, how he has forgotten to fill out things properly, not knowing that it was a public forum. But somebody saw it and told her.
She became angry again, accusing him of trying to be unfaithful when that had not been the aim of his writings. She told him she hated him that they could never be a couple again. He wept.
Now he just sits there and tries to remember the good times, when they were happy and so deeply in love it seemed that it was all a dream from which they could never awaken.
He still does household chores like cooking and washing, but not as much as before. He has thought about leaving, but he is stubborn, he still believes that broken dreams can be repaired. Maybe they will not be as new as they were in the beginning, but at least a little recognizable for what they were.
She walks into the room; he wipes away the tear in case she sees it. He knows she will yell at him if he cries, she does not like him showing his sorrow.
He looks at her and feels the love that he has for her swell up in his chest, it hurts so much he wishes it would kill him. But it doesn’t. He wants to go to her and hold her tenderly, but he not allowed, she will scream at him again repeating over and over,
“I hate you!!!” Yet he loves her.
So he just limps into the kitchen and picks up his little bottle of pills, taking only a half a tablet. As he screws the lid back on he wonders to himself.
“How many Valium could he take to end his pain?”
He swallows the half a tablet, wipes away another stray tear and wanders off to his bed, hoping to escape and dream of better things.
Then one day, she tells him she is moving out, he tries to talk her out of moving, peads with her to stay and go with him for counselling. But she refuses.
Finally she leaves him alone wirh their daughter, who is saddened at seing her parents split in that way. He helps her and the other chilren move out, he dosen't want to, but he does. He cried all the time they were moving and that night he heard their daughter crying in her room.
His wife has not spoken to him or his daughter for over a month and she has not contacted us since she left three months ago.
They do not know what will happen to them, but they have come to accept that her mother does not love them anymore. He tried to convince his child to visit her mother, but she dosen't want to go, she is angry and sad.
They both miss her very much but he had promised to give his love anything in his power to give her. His last act was to give her the freedom she sought. he is saddened, but hopes she will find happiness in her life once again. Because he loves her.
Robin A Spicer © 2006