I don’t need music for the words to come through. The words that rattle in my head that haunted me on my car trip, the apologies of one, who still doesn’t know why. He cocked the gun he couldn’t deal and he couldn’t heal, so much to live for yet, so easy to end it. The rat race, the life that was filled with uncertainty; the pressure and he couldn’t just check out. No he was the provider. He was her support so if he was going to do it, it had to be both of them. It didn’t matter that she had so much to live for in that moment, he only saw that he needed a way out. He needed it to end. He wasn’t any good alive and she couldn’t make it without him, so the answer was the gun. When he walked up behind her he knew she was speaking with her daughter it didn’t matter. None of it mattered, he just wanted to make it quick and end it. It couldn’t go on any longer.
Once he pulled the trigger though and saw what he had done, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that he had killed the woman he loved. There was so much blood. Too much blood and he had done it, now there was no other way. He would have to make his own peace. Find a place where he would get his solace from the regrets he now held; click, bang and then delightful darkness. Peace, blessed sweet peace. No worries, no fear, until his soul realized what he had done. Then regret filled him and loss. This was not the peace he bargained for, this was a nightmare. He could still see the blood and he searched for her but she wasn’t there.
No, she was still there, back where he made their escape. She was there with her Grandbaby and Daughter. She was there acting like it was any other day, not realizing they couldn’t really see her. Well at least not her daughter. Her Granddaughter knew but she wasn’t saying. Soon though her soul began to realize that things were different, she began to notice that not everyone could hear her. She stopped for a second and realized that noise she heard just before she was free. Free from everything that had held her back.
When she moved to her daughter, she saw the pain and the tears. She knew something was terribly wrong as she saw her daughter’s agony written on her face. Things would never be the same.
He was sorry, so very sorry but there was nothing he could do to fix it. It wasn’t him, he loved his wife and their family. It was his reason for living but suddenly it was his reason for dying. It was his reason to give up on everything. Now there was no going back. Lives were changed and broken. There were no pieces for him to repair there was only images and feelings of all that he had destroyed and all he could say was sorry.
©2016 Copyright D. M. Needom