Our Secret Path

They said that one day, something snapped inside of you, and without telling anyone, you went off to die quietly in a cave somewhere. They said you had given up. I heard many different versions of it, mostly from well-meaning people who wanted me to move on, but I refused to believe them. I knew you had your flaws, but I never accepted the idea that you had it in you to abandon us like that. And I know it sounds delusional, but I kept your things ready for when you eventually came back.

The craziest thing is that I always knew the way to find you. I was just too proud and foolish to let myself follow that path when it was by far the simplest thing I could have done. So instead, I moved mountains to raise our daughter alone.

Now, try not to let it go to your head, but I can finally bring myself to say it.

It’s been so hard without you.

There, I’ve said it. And when I think about it now, who cares that you lost your job and that I became the family breadwinner? You weren’t just a job! And after you were gone, I realized I missed you so much. And the things I constantly criticized you for were some of the things I missed the most.

I missed your gentleness, and even though you had trouble standing up for yourself sometimes, I never doubted your kindness was genuine.

I missed how you took your time to do everything as perfectly as you could. It used to drive me so crazy!

I also missed how you always knew just how to cheer me up after a long day spent at work. I missed being able to talk to you about any random thing. I missed the time we spent together with the children. Oh, and I can’t deny that I missed your cooking too. Instant meals just don’t taste the same.

I'm so sorry I filed for divorce. Believe me, back then, I didn’t feel like I was doing it lightly, but now the reasons feel like they don't matter anymore, and I'm ashamed. If I were to try to explain myself, I would say this: for a long time, you were always so depressed, and I had to take care of you like another child in the house. You were supposed to be the stable rock of the relationship, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I hope you understand and that you forgive me just as I forgive you.

Don’t worry. I’m coming to the part about our secret path. It always amazed me how it could even exist: a strange path through the city, like a wormhole leading straight into the steady heart of the mountains. I still remember how surprised I was when you first showed it to me, and I immediately knew that you were someone special. Back when we were dating, it was our secret place where we could go whenever we felt upset or just had to get away from it all. That’s how I know for sure that I’ll find you there today. But if I’m wrong, and you’re not there, then I don’t know what I’m going to do.

So today, while Delphine is at school and my mother’s waiting for her at our home, I'm finally going for a walk down our secret path to try to find you again. I'm going to try and pull you away (if I can, and if it's your wish, too) from the place where you've become stranded.

It's you I feel when I see that path patiently waiting for me just where I remember it. It’s there for me and me alone, shivering with its own peculiar energy, and the memories of you are pouring out of it like waves of effervescent bubbles. It feels so familiar as I walk down that alley by that big building with the worn and spalling bricks, and I take that hidden turn, alone this time.

As I walk down that magical path, everything happens exactly as I remember it. The buildings quickly shrink in size, and then they're just houses. Then, the houses get farther and farther apart. Two houses. A gap. A house. A large gap. A tiny, rusted gas station. The biggest gap yet. One last quaint little house with a vegetable garden in front. Soon, the fresh and clean air of the mountains fills my lungs again.

This is the part where I'm alone in the wilderness and not quite sure where to go, but looking up at the nearest jagged mountainside, something catches my eye in a cave above. Somehow, I know it's where I need to go, and I make my way up to it. Then, after a long trek up the mountain, I finally get to see the uniquely creative cave paintings you've made with different colored mud and kids’ pastel-colored chalk sticks. I laugh and wash away some of the chalk with my tear-stained fingers as I lovingly run my hands on the cave wall. I’m so happy that I’ve come to the right place!

You always were such a wonderful artist. First, you’ve drawn a picture of our first date and how we teased each other playfully. Then comes the beautiful day of our wedding. After that, of course, there’s the birth of our children. Then I come to our greatest heartbreak: our precious Sam’s passing, a scene drawn all in darkest blues. I slump to the hard ground, my lower lip trembling, and I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, remembering that day I can never forget. For a long time, I just sit there thinking about our dear child who was taken from us so soon.

That’s when I feel a great cold and the chilly breath of winter. I wonder if I can make it through that bitterness, and as I walk, I soon see it. There's a great wall of transparent ice, a hypnotic blue like the ocean, and clear as glass in places. It's a chilling glacier cutting through the mountain. It’s a mixed blessing because even amid the stinging cold, at least there’s light filtering through the ice. To get through, I have to wade into the knee-deep water and walk underneath a great ceiling of ice. My breath is coming in small clouds of steam in front of me, and my toes feel like they’re going to get frostbite. I feel sorry that this is where you had to go.

Finally, I leave the bitter cold behind. On the dry ground again, I try to squeeze the chilly water out of my shoes and pant legs, and I warm my toes with my hands until they’re no longer numb. Then I resume the climb. There’s a narrow passageway in front of me that’s intensely dark, and it feels like it’s breathing in and out with the faintest of breaths. As I walk inside, the light quickly becomes very dim. There's a great stony weight above me, like the weight of all creation. I’m forced to get down on all fours and, try as I might, I can’t help but imagine being trapped and suffocating in this narrowing passageway that's like a crack through the stone.

Then gradually, as I feel my way through the darkness, my breath slows down, and my fearful mind is soothed as I realize how peaceful and silent everything’s become. There’s a feeling of mercy as the darkness gradually becomes soft and milky and white and comforting. In this solitary milky darkness, I feel I've returned to a peaceful time before birth. It's comfortable, and I’m so tempted to lie down against the flat stone and enjoy the stillness. That’s just what I do, and it’s as comfortable as I had imagined. And as I’m lying there for who knows how long, my ears become attuned to the silence, and I hear the soft voice of the Earth gently singing to me. It must be so easy to let the years pass, lying here perfectly alone, simply letting go of it all. And for a moment, in the unending whiteness, I imagine I'm in a mirrored place on the other side of the universe. A place where darkness is light, light is darkness, and everything else in the world is reversed. A place made of anti-matter. And I wonder if anti-matter people live happier lives than we do.

Then at length, I get back on all fours, and after crawling a while longer, I finally enter the smallest cave, an egg-shaped cavity barely big enough for a person. I recognize it as a tiny refuge, a comfortable nook to lie down in and sleep, a place where the troubles of life won't hound you anymore. I suck my breath in when I feel fingers, a hand, an arm. There’s a body resting here, its own breath so quiet. A body that’s so thin. Thin as a dying bird. For a long time, my hands tremble as they feel your face in the dark, and I have a hard time recognizing the man I married, but I finally do.

"David, I’m sorry. Will you please forgive me?" I whisper, and the tears that have been pooling in my eyes for so long finally come raining down.