₦airaland Forum

StephenP:
Sorry I took too long . . .

She saw the red wine spilled on the floor and the broken glass all around me and for a moment it seemed she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed me and checked all around my skin, there was no cuts and no gushing blood, but my eyes were red and my cheeks were wet with tears.

She wiped away my tears with the handkerchief I bought for her last Valentine while she pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked repeatedly and I began to mumble. The more I tried to talk, the more the tears came flowing. “I’m sorry, I love you so much” I said to her as she placed her hands on my face as if to force me to look her in the eyes. “I love you too” she replied although she looked slightly confused on what I was sorry for. I began to rabble some more, “I slept with another woman, I . . . I . . . slept with another woman because I was angry. Some man constantly kept leaving messages on our answering machine saying that it was a pleasure having lunch with you and random shit like that so I snapped. I lost it and I slept with another woman and I’m sorry.” She trembled, her hands shook, my lips quivered as she lifted her hands to her mouth and gasped for air as if she was suffocating.

To finish it,

Maybe she was because sometimes love can be suffocating. Loving someone to the point of insanity, loving to the point where logic is blinded by all possible emotions that is then pushed into a tiny box with a time bomb strapped to it. Wars have begun in the name of love, blood has been spilled in the name of love, crimes have been committed for the sake of love and now infidelity has been the product of this love.

She took her hands off my face while pushing my face to side. I wanted to beg her, beg her to forgive me and take me back, but I sat still crying in defeat. There are some things you can’t expect a woman to forgive and this was one of them. She walked away towards the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a towel. She returned but made no eye contact with me. She got on her knees and began to clean up the spilled wine and picked up the broken pieces. It was quiet again, and the only sounds in the house were those of her footsteps as she continued to clean up the kitchen.

She finally returned to me, still refusing to look me in the face, she gently pulled at her hand and slowly took the wedding ring off her finger and dropped it on my lap. My heart broke into pieces smaller than particles and I looked at her and saw that streams of tears had surfaced in her eyes, and was rolling down her cheeks and down her neck where it soaked into her blouse.

She left the house, but I did not run out after her. I remained there staring blankly into the wall, lost in a jungle of my untamed thoughts.

stillwater:
Lol.

it's funny? That's not the emotion I was aiming for.

TOH:
depressing

Finish up though!

will do

aiit

StephenP:
continued

She walked in and allowed the silence to welcome her home. I remembered the days when we'd raced each other home. She usually won because her job was only 15 minutes away. Sometimes I would leave work early just to beat her home. The best part of my day was the exciting feeling I got right before opening the door because I knew she was on the other side with a pea coat on and nothing under. But now, it seemed like life had morphed into a strange darkness and no amount of light seemed to remove the gray. So many things were the catalyst - Life got harder, more demanding, schedules changed, problems rose out from the night and silence became our comfort. The love remained strong, but unused, waiting for time to heal the open wounds.

She entered quietly into the kitchen, she glanced at my shadow, but she kept her head moving in the same direction as her feet – towards the fridge. I sensed the silence bugged her because she asked, “How was your day babe?” but she received no reply, “ I was hoping you would make some of that spaghetti that I love or something like we agreed this morning cause I’m starving” she continued. I knew that she was secretly hoping that the silence would end, yet I spoke not one word or made any movement to acknowledge her presence or voice. In frustration, she slammed the fridge and walked towards me and started to yelling at me, telling me how upset she was about the way our marriage was going, telling me if I wanted her to leave I should tell her, after all the door was wide open.


definitely going to be continued

Sorry I took too long . . .

She saw the red wine spilled on the floor and the broken glass all around me and for a moment it seemed she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed me and checked all around my skin, there was no cuts and no gushing blood, but my eyes were red and my cheeks were wet with tears.

She wiped away my tears with the handkerchief I bought for her last Valentine while she pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked repeatedly and I began to mumble. The more I tried to talk, the more the tears came flowing. “I’m sorry, I love you so much” I said to her as she placed her hands on my face as if to force me to look her in the eyes. “I love you too” she replied although she looked slightly confused on what I was sorry for. I began to rabble some more, “I slept with another woman, I . . . I . . . slept with another woman because I was angry. Some man constantly kept leaving messages on our answering machine saying that it was a pleasure having lunch with you and random shit like that so I snapped. I lost it and I slept with another woman and I’m sorry.” She trembled, her hands shook, my lips quivered as she lifted her hands to her mouth and gasped for air as if she was suffocating.