The talented Eternal Worrier just completed a series of posts called “7 impressionists on my life”, and his heartfelt, honest writing was pure joy to read. Now that he is finished, he has selected other bloggers to follow a similar path. Very much to my surprise, I was selected.

I have chosen to write about seven different events in my life that most people are not aware of. ( If I can come up with sharing that many). They will be in no historical order, and I will probably post other things in between, so please bear with me as I try this…..

Chapter 1 : Heather

I was twenty years old when I met my soul mate. From the moment she started at my work, I couldn’t get enough of her. Her hair was the color of autumn red, with eyes as blue as the ocean on a cloudless day. This was not a crush, nor a mere physical desire, it was so much more. Having her around made me feel whole, no longer lost in a sea of emptiness. I stopped drifting through life.
We did normal activities such as laying in the park, talking on the porch late into the night, frolicking thru the hills, but being together made it so much more than normal. As we would hold each other, I savored the nape of her neck, the small of her back, the smoothness of her thighs.  She would tell me that I was beautiful in the moonlight. I couldn’t imagine life without her.
But, I found out, neither could her husband.
At the time, I thought I was the person that would never get involved with a married person. She told me that it broke her heart, and until me, she was convinced that the person she married was the one. We tried to ignore what we felt, but if you have a soul mate, you know that is an impossible task.
I remember sitting at work, listening to her talk on the phone to him. She tried to fiend interest, but later told me she felt as though she was cheating on me.  I told myself that I was a good person, and wouldn’t let this continue, as she had made her choice. I did not want to be “that person” that caused divorce.
The guilt was too much to handle. We were good people. And so we ended it. She quit. I moved on.
I heard from her a few months later. As soon as I picked up the phone, the sensation of true love on the other line came flooding back to me. She said she wanted to see me one last time. I couldn’t say no.
Sitting on my bed later that night, she told me she couldn’t live life as she was anymore, and she was going to tell him it’s over. I told her no. Was I a fool?
She finally agreed with me, and I walked her out the door, wiping her tears.
Several months passed, and I heard nothing. Then the news came, and I fell to my knees in disbelief. She apparently had to be honest with him. He broke down completely, and had a stroke. Literally. He was 23, healthy, and going to get his Masters in architecture. But all of that disappeared as he collapsed to the floor.
My life changed forever with this news.
Several years later, I was in a grocery store with a new girlfriend, someone whom I did not feel the way I did about Heather ( none have since ). As we were about to leave, something told me to look over my shoulder. I saw a beautifully tragic readhead holding the hand of a young man limping beside her. She was pointing to objects on the counter, trying to communicate with him as he could not speak.
All I saw was sadness.
That sadness is something I carry with me everyday. A part of me now lives everyday committed to doing good, in hopes of receiving forgiveness for the past.

4 Replies to “Dusting off a closed book : Chapter 1 "Heather"”

  1. The closing scene in the supermarket is as powerful as any I've read. This piece of writing packs an incredible punch. I hope things are easier for you now – there is little quite as painfully unfair as meeting the right person at the wrong time.

  2. Wow, that’s a fantastic piece of writing. I know where you’re coming from with regard to the married woman as Lou B was married when I first met her. She would go home at night and I would feel as if she were being unfaithful to ‘me’ instead of her husband.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.