The Quest (18 page)

              “I’ve always wanted children.”

              “Good.”

              In the dark that surrounded our bed that we now shared, Denver had moved in after the NY trip, we had decided that living apart wasn’t practical since we were always together; I told him the painful truth.

              He sat up quickly and said, “Are you serious?”

              “Yes, I’m sorry.”

              “Wow. I wish I had known.”

              ‘Wish I had known’ cut through the air like a knife gutting the stillness. I could feel the rain drops of blood pouring on me. What was I supposed to say? We never really talked about it. We never brought it up. I assumed since he was against marriage he was against having children too. So I figured it wouldn’t matter that I couldn’t have children. At the age of thirty I had a complete hysterectomy. Something I didn’t share with anyone. I was ashamed of my body for never having the goods to do the one job it was designed for, bear a child. I knew in my heart I would never be a mother and it was very hard for me to accept it. Of course, a few years had passed since I was devastated by the surgery, but just like everything in my life, I knew it must have been all part of some big plan for why the Good Lord didn’t want me to have a child.

              Then I told him of the loss of the two pregnancies I had. He was sympathetic. He didn’t even ask with who, so I didn’t tell him. It had been a while since the thoughts of that man entered my mind. I try to push him away and out of my life for this reason and now I was facing the same thing with Denver. My heart was crumbling in the dark lying beside him. He wasn’t cuddling me or comforting me. The tears dripped steady upon the pillow beneath me. I tried hard to not breathe, not to sniffle, not feel, not say another word. And I was scared of what he would say next to me.

              He didn’t. He didn’t say another word. And I had no idea when he fell asleep. I lay awake for hours scolding myself for not telling him when we met. What was I thinking? I was older than him yes, but only by five years. I’m sure he thought I was still in my prime to have children. And of course I was. We would have made beautiful babies together, I agreed. Only I couldn’t. And the thought of his disappointment and his silence overwhelmed me. I felt so alone in the dark lying beside him, I just couldn’t take it. I slipped out of bed with my pillow in hand and settled on the couch. I knew what was to happen in the morning hours and I wasn’t ready to face it. Just like with Ed, Denver would awake distant from me, things wouldn’t be the same then I’d have to explain all over again, because he wouldn’t understand or he wouldn't be sure if he had heard me right last night. The conversation would lead to tears, maybe a small fight, I would get angry, he would storm out, and then followed by us going our separate ways. Yeah, what was I thinking?

              He awoke me around ten saying he needed to talk. He slipped a cup of coffee in my hand and sat down on the other end of the couch. Here it comes. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I just stared into my cup.

              “I’m sorry I want a family. I thought you did too.”

              I didn’t respond.

              “I need a family Samantha, I want children.”

              “We could always adopt,” I whispered into my cup.

              “I want my own, not someone else’s.”

              I could feel him staring at me wanting me to agree with him. What did he want me to say? I knew that wasn’t even an option for me. Did he want me to try and talk him out of having children of his own? That wouldn’t have been fair of me if I did. I didn’t want him awaking one day and regret our life together, as I felt he was doing right now. I would have considered any route it would take to have a baby, adopting, a surrogate even, but he wasn’t mentioning options, I felt he was bailing. Bailing on our beautiful love and the time we had spent together.

              “Samantha, please understand…” he hesitated then added he was leaving. I wasn’t surprised. At least he told me he was leaving. Ed didn’t tell me. I came home and found all of his stuff gone with a note left for me on the counter. It was right after we had lost our last baby girl. He didn’t even wait for me to heal before he bailed. I will always hold that against him.

              “Are you sure it’s what you want?”

              “Yes.”

              His answer was cold and unconditional. I stood to my feet and out of nowhere a voice overshadowed me screaming at him for bailing on me. I cursed him, calling him a coward, a selfish pig, a loser, a coward again stomping and storming around on the hardwood floor making it known to the neighbors underneath that we had some serious issues.

              “Well…well…” I flared my arms in the air. “I don’t want to be here when you take all your stuff, so can you wait till this weekend. Can you do that? Wait? Umm…” I looked around the room trying to count the items that belonged to him to keep composure and keep from desperately bawling. “I will go stay the night somewhere and give you time to get your things,” I whispered defeatedly.

              Again, I didn’t look at him. I was afraid if I saw his eyes I would burst into tears.

              I heard him exhale loudly followed by, “Okay.”

              “Uh, Sam?
”
He never called me Sam always Samantha. He was already detaching himself from me. I walked away.

              If he waited till the weekend to get his things, that would mean he may have to spend the next few days in the apartment with me, I wasn’t sure if I could handle that. It was over between us. He needed to go. He left the apartment shortly after I walked out of the room. When I heard the door slam I called Sofie. She was my go to girl and she knew all about every man I fell in love with. But she didn’t answer. I needed her to cry with me on the phone and scold me like I deserved for never being upfront about it. I needed her to offer me a place to stay for a few days too. I knew she was dealing with enough drama to not add mine, but I also knew she would be there for me. I dialed her number over and over crying even more now. “Why doesn’t she answer me?” I sobbed texting her. No response. “Come on Sofie. Come on!” I did not want to end up back on my floor. How did I know I was headed there? I could feel myself crumble.

              My floor was beckoning me. It knew when I needed it the most. It’s almost as if it just waits on me to screw up so it could have its comforting time with me. Not much confidence does it have in me huh? It knows I suck at relationships. It knows I don’t know how to pick ‘em. It knows all my fears, my thoughts, my heart. But I also know it’s a place to go if I need it. What I really needed was Denver, and he was nowhere in my sight now. I needed him to say he was sorry and we could work it out. But no, only my floor was there to console me.

              Denver had returned to the apartment like he said he would on Friday, I wasn’t there. He moved everything that belonged to him, even the things I had bought for him, and the T-shirts of his I liked to sleep in. I was glad he took those, though. I knew I wouldn’t have been able to stand to see them nor wear them again. He left no note, and when I called his cell number it had been disconnected. With that, I was devastated. Wow.

              I was quick to land on the spot our couch used to sit. It was not the cleanest spot on the floor due to the dust bunnies that gathered under there, but I didn’t care. They didn’t bother me they welcomed me. What bothered me this time was the silence. I couldn’t stand it. My apartment had not been silent in months. It made me sad. The silence broke me.

Nothing Left of Me

H
ere I am again, unloved, un-hugged, unsure of what to do with my life. It wasn’t that I was trying to be deceitful; the subject just never came up. I don’t feel like I’ve hidden anything from him, far from it actually, but I do feel railroaded. How could he just walk out like that? Like I meant nothing all this time. Didn’t he know I have feelings too? If he was so in tune with my soul, did he not know how much my soul wept for him? Could he not hear my tears? Where was my soulmate when I truly needed him? Aren’t they supposed to be there by your side for everything? Even the big things, aren’t they supposed to understand it’s not your fault and love you anyway? Why do I feel so unloved and discarded?

              The questions come a mile a minute reminding me why I was so guarded with Denver in the first place. But he made me think he was different, that I had finally found the One. You knew the real one, not the flighty one, the indecisive one, or the selfish one…the
one
that I would spend my days loving and caring for. Denver was the perfect fit for me, or I thought he was anyway.

              Sofie was wrong. My floor was where I belonged. The thought of getting off it now and facing another man in my life was out of the question. I had put so much into this last relationship, there was nothing left of me. My phone, that set high on the counter buzzed into the wee hours. Someone must have thought I wanted to talk, I didn’t. The door a few steps away was knocked upon several times. Someone must have thought I wanted to visit, I didn’t. I heard them call my name, I didn’t answer. It didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. Not to anyone. Not to him when it counted. Not even to myself. Go away!

              I heard myself scream at one point. Screamed until my throat was sore, then the screaming stopped. The tears were gone too right along with the screams. Good to know they’re gone for now. They were mixing with the dust bunnies causing mud upon my hands and cheeks. I am dirty now in every sense of the word and I don’t even care. My eagerness to give a shit was gone.

              I started recounting all the famous Hemingway lines that I knew off the top of my head. I had always loved Hemingway. I knew he was a troubled soul but I knew he loved deeply, probably to a fault just like me. There were times I felt like Hemingway so it seemed natural for me to bring up the words he wrote so gracefully:

“I didn’t want to kiss you goodbye, That was the trouble, I wanted to kiss you goodnight.”

              Yeah, every night for the rest of our lives.

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

              Ditto, I whispered.

“When you stop doing things for fun you might as well be dead.”

              I’m dead inside.

“The world breaks everyone and after, some are strong at the broken places.”

              I’m not strong. Will I ever be again? Doubt it.

             
“For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.
”

              Never bought.

“Maybe… you’ll fall in love with me all over again”…”Hell,” I said, “I love you enough now. What do you want to do? ruin me?”…“Yes, I want to ruin you!”…

…“Good,” I said, “That’s what I want too.”

              Yup, and he did just that, ruined me.

“We ate well and cheaply, and drank well and cheaply, and slept well and warm together, and loved each other.”

              Denver was so warm.

“You are so brave and quiet…I forget you are suffering.”

              I’m a silent tear.

“Better have lost and loved than to never have loved at all.”

Yeah, I don’t agree with this one Ernie. I need a break from loving so much it hurts.

“To hell with them…nothing hurts if you don’t let it.”

              That’s a lie.

***

“
T
o hell with them. To hell with them.
”
Hmm. I think that was the most meaningful thing I’ve heard myself say in a good long while. “To hell with them. Nothing hurts if I don’t let it.” Nothing. Hmm. Nothing hurts. If…I…don’t…let…it. I don’t let it. Nothing. To hell with them. That’s right, to hell with him. That’s a lie, though. It hurts. Hurts bad.

              I awoke a few hours later, not sure how much time had passed really but it didn’t matter anyway. The apartment was still silent, dark, and lonely. I convinced myself to sit up and pull myself somewhat together. So I sat up taking stock of what was left in my apartment. When Denver moved in, I moved all my things in storage. There were just a few things left of mine in here. And looking around I see how dirty we lived. My floors used to be so pristine! What happened? My floor had never had dust bunnies before. I guess that’s what love does to you. You don’t see the dirt through rose colored glasses.

              I stood to my feet, with achy legs, stretching as I walked to the bedroom. It was time I got a new agenda, one that didn’t require a man again. One that would give me strength in rebuilding my self-worth and self-esteem. I made a mental note of what was needed immediately out of storage and called a good friend for his help. I knew there were things I couldn’t carry on my own much less up a flight of three stairs. He had a few buddies that could help as well and for a couple of twelve packs, a hot pizza, and a swim in the pool, they were willing to move everything. Great. I had a plan to get my life back in order, starting with my apartment.

              It was mid-afternoon when everything was finally moved. I was smiling, not beaming mind you but it felt good to make a change. I just couldn’t wallow in the self-pity of myself any longer. I knew my worth and knew I was worthy. I am worthy of having someone love me, this I knew. I didn’t need to be someone’s bride, even though I wanted to be someone’s mother, I knew I didn’t need to be that either, but I did need to get myself back and that’s what I was set on doing.

              I am strong. I've had no choice but to be strong in my life. I know I’m weak. I’m weak when I feel I’ve connected with a good man. All my senses go out the window. I know I’m back to being guarded but that’s okay that’s not such a bad thing. I know I’ve felt love from a prince charming of a man and I know if I never get that again at least I can say that once in my life I experienced it. Not sure if everyone can say that, but yes I can say it. I don’t have any ill feelings toward Denver, I love him still. But I know he deserves to have a family. I was not talking him out of that. And there was no easy way to say goodbye. I’m glad he at least had the courage to tell me rather than stay with me with regrets. I would have never forgiven him if he had lied. He was honest. I commend him for that. Miss the hell out of him, but I know he will find someone who can give him what he wants, a baby.

              With that thought, I sat on my old couch and cried. I cried through every channel I flipped on my old TV. I cried through every commercial break watching a two-hour movie and cried harder when the baby commercials were aired. Then I cried myself to sleep, on my couch, with my TV still on.

              The next morning I awoke confused and scattered. My makeup hadn’t been washed off from the day before and I was continuing to smear mascara even further around my eyes. I tiptoed to the bathroom moving sluggishly, missing the look in the mirror. When I returned to the living room, there was a knock on my door. I tiptoed to the door to peep through the hole.

              “Sadie, open the door,” he demanded. “I know you’re right behind the door, I can hear you.” He laughed.

              How did he know? I tiptoed!

              “Come on, Sadie, I just stopped by to say hi, nothing more, let me in.”

              I didn’t answer. I didn’t want him inside, the place was a mess, and I was a mess. I didn’t want to see him.

              “Please. Just for a minute.”

              I sighed rather largely and unlocked the door. I stood in the crack and stared him down with no emotion. His smile quickly turned into a frown when he saw me.

              “
Oh. My. God.
Are you okay? What happened?”

              “Nothing… I’m fine!” Okay, I admit I was a little rough around the edges and harsh, but did I answer too snappy? I don’t think so. He must not have thought so either because he didn’t leave. Instead, he moved closer with his hand on the knob and opened the door further, walking in, wrapping his arms around me as he came in. His big muscular arms enveloped and cradled me tight against him.

              “I’m sorry, honey.” And the tears resumed their flow. Damn him.

              Here I was on the brink of trying to forget and make myself better and who comes to my rescue? Who knocks on my door? Who barges back into my life with his arms comforting me which only makes me cry that much harder? His mean arms were soft and strong holding me up, letting me know it was okay to crumble and they would be there just in case I wanted to fall into them. His kiss, on the top of my head, was enduring and sweet. A loving, caring man he was. Why was he quick to my rescue? Who was this blessed creature at my door? The master of the first batch of broken heart pieces of course. The ruler of my broken kingdom, the prince of my damaged psyche. Mr. dear old Radley. But how did he know I was broken again? How could he know? I hadn’t seen him since I met Denver. There was no way he could have known, could he? Was he stalking me?

              I thought maybe he sensed it, maybe intuition. We had been so connected at one time that this scenario wouldn’t have surprised me. There was a time he knew me well. We would finish each other’s sentences; we would laugh at the same crazy jokes; we fit together like peanut butter and honey. Yes, there was a time in my life he would have been known as the man that knew all there was to know about me. So, instead of questioning my head why he was there, I pulled away pulling myself together as best as I could and asked what brought him by to see me.

              “Saw some guys moving furniture back into your apartment.”

              “Really? Geez.
”

              “Yeah. One is a buddy of mine so I asked him what was going on, he filled me in.”

              “Great. Now everyone knows,” I cried.

              “Shhh…they don’t matter. It’ll be all right. I promise.” He pulled me back closer to him taking another hug without asking again while rubbing his hands up and down my back. I rested my cheek on his shoulders; I didn’t care now that he was rubbing me. His hands felt amazing and it was comforting.

              “Have you eaten anything?”

              “I'm not hungry,” I answered quietly. I never have an appetite when I’m broken. Who needs food? Not me. I actually hadn’t eaten much in the past week but I didn’t care.

              “You need to eat.”

              “I’m not hungry.” I held him tighter as I was still wrapped within his arms.

              “Nonsense.
”
He pulled away and wiped a tear from my cheek, “Now go wash those tears off those beautiful cheeks.” My face was palmed within his hands. “Go wash up, darling, and let’s go eat I’m starving.”

              He called me darling! Geez, I’m such a sucker for that word. “All right.
”
I sulked my way into the bathroom and was shocked by the horrible look on my face. I should have checked it before I opened the door, but who cares. Radley has seen me at my worst and I knew he didn’t care what I looked like either. In some weird strange way, I loved that about him. I quickly cleaned up and changed clothes. Within minutes, I was back in the living room ready to go with some relief he had stopped by.

              We jolted down the three flights of stairs with Radley filling me in on his new job and adventures he had been busy with. He told me about a girl he was seeing too, why? I don’t know. Yeah, he was the same old Radley needing to tell me about all his women. Some things never changed with him. But I didn’t skip a beat and made a snide remark that he had dated every woman in Huntsville, adding she must be new in town. He just laughed. He knew he was taking a big gamble stopping by today. He knew I was guarded when it came to him, but he didn’t care about that either. He knew I was hurting and when he knows he’s not the cause of it then he’s a great comforter. He was there for me when Ed bailed. If it wasn’t for him I would have been on the floor then also. He was there helping me till I healed and I felt okay enough to be on my own. He stayed longer than I needed him to, but I was glad he did. Now he’s here,  rescuing me, helping me mend my battered heart again. I guess it only seems like the proper thing to do since he was the one that caused the duct-taping-fix in the first place. And he, of all the men I knew, should know well how those pieces don’t quite fit back together. It takes some mighty maneuvering to get them to jive again.             

              Within moments of leaving my apartment, we slipped in the nearby pizza shop. It’s one of my favorite places to go for comfort food. I suggested we sit at the bar. I didn’t want anyone to think we were on a date just in case someone spotted him and told this gal pal he was seeing about our having dinner together. I had no idea how serious he was with her, but knowing Radley, the girl probably thinks it’s way more than he does.