Monday, February 27, 2006

Cholera

If any of you are looking for a new neighbor, I will sell you mine cheap. She's a lacto pescetarian, has really good shoes and comes with typhus.

I just sent her a text message: "I hate you," because apparently her generosity applies not only to coffee and emergency cocktail dresses, but to disease as well. I guess I have to take the bad with the good, but I am not feeling particularly charitable at the moment.

A porcupine is living in my froat, my nose bears a strange resemblance to 1984 disco, my ears are crackling and my head hurts. Whine, suffer, whine.

And I just called my friend to let her know that A.S. and I have decided to keep Beulah, and I think she was both relieved and incredibly sad. It's awful to have to give up your dog, especially on top of everything else that's happende. And she said that her three year old is having a tough time, asking where his dada is, where his dog is, and wants to know why they're staying with his grandparents and can't go home. She said it just finally started to sink in yesterday that this is her life now, not just a really bad dream. I wish it were.

I've been thinking about her a whole lot this week and last, and I just hope she can find a way to forgive her husband for doing what he did. Understanding is really too much to ask, since apparently her husband couldn't even achieve that. But maybe acceptance and forgiveness, maybe those are what leads to healing for her and for their family.

She told me, "I'm having to figure out who I am now. Because for so long, he was a part of me, and now, this is what my life is like. I'm not going to wake up from this." I hope she knows that it won't always be this hard, or hurt this much. And that she's not alone. And that wherever he is, her husband owes her big. I hope she can forgive him and let go. She's really angry with him and misses him so much. Now, when she needs comfort most, he can't offer it. I can't imagine how I would feel if I couldn't press my nose into A.S.'s neck and smell his gypsumy smell and get scratched by his whiskers and hold his hand and hear him breathe. You marry with such certainty, such hope, and the expectation of a partnership to face anything and everything. How does anyone learn how to walk alone again after that?

3 comments:

Nothing But Bonfires said...

Uh, I am trying to watch The Bachelor Finale -- WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME CRY?

Beautifully written. A horrible thing, but so perfectly expressed.

roo said...

Your friend is living one of my darkest nightmares. I hope she finds her way through.

Marcheline said...

We are a lot tougher than even we realize.

She'll be okay, with friends like you to pull her through.

- M