Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Letter Number Two... (Flesh and Fury)

Hello, you. Guess it’s me again.

I was thinking, and I can’t remember the last time I was that angry. As the words flew last night… words, words, words… I remember thinking that if I were to die and they were to cut me open, they’d find nothing but flesh and fury. I can’t remember the last time I was that angry.

Late… long after we were over… I slid off the bed and stared at the dark wall and screamed. I screamed and screamed. The whole house echoed. When I was done– when the wood gave up the noise and the cries faded - I stood, pale and ghostly, and haunted the very same rooms you were just in. Doors you’d just passed through. Chairs you’d just left. It was muggy last night and there were thunderstorms. The air was charged. Electric. My nightgown clung to my legs and sparked as I moved and haunted.

What was it you said? I don’t remember now. I don’t care now. I laugh at how puerile I've been. I always thought they’d find our story – a hundred years from now – and think Bronte or Austen. They’d read about you… about me… about you and me… and then stamp us with the label 'Greatest Love Story Ever Told'. Why have I always thought that? For ten years now, I have. It’s a hard label to dismiss.

And you're a hard one to dismiss, too. You're not hard to like. In the middle of the night I found myself in my nightgown, leaning over the porch railing and dripping tears onto the roses below. (Ridiculous roses. I swear I’ll dig up and burn the ones we just planted.) The occasionally bright moon made my rolling tears glisten, and I was thankful, truly thankful, for the promise of a Heavenly Father who will wipe every tear from my eyes. What a reassurance. I can't help but think He had to have known, when He made you and made me, that tear-wiping would be part of it. And I can't help but hope that He's a little aggravated with you for creating so much work for Him.

No. I can't remember the last time I was that angry. So I stood, me in my electric nightgown and you so very far, far away, and stared at the moon. The watching moon. And after awhile, I came in and scribbled this down:

Shadows –
Raw dreams –
Scream at you to
-------------- Stop.
The moon watches as I think
Of you.

I would say goodbye but I already did.