Concealed Candor

I sit on the wooden bench in the foyer, and stare at the picture frame that has been clenched in my hands for quite some time. The late night is revealed by the sharp moonlight bursting through the oversized window. The black laced veil remains clipped to my hair. It drapes over my shoulders down to my black dress.

            A fleeting flicker interrupts the moonlight. Was that the shadow of a man that I just saw? Could that be what caused the flicker? I turn around to check behind me. Nothing. My shoulders drop. How could I be so dumb? How could I allow myself to have that kind of hope? I turn back to look at the old photograph again and there you are, in front of me. As you sit next to me I can’t help but shoot you that slanted grin you used to tell me you loved so much. You wrap me close with your big arms. Finally, some peace. I lean into you and your perfect lips press against my forehead, forcing my eyes to close with relief. I take a deep breath, inhaling the smell of your clothes, and open my eyes only to find I’m now alone. You’re still not here and nobody is holding me.

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            The following morning, I take a stroll through the large back patio, the way I used to when I would try to steal glimpses of you gazing out over the pond in our backyard. I continue to walk down the concrete path. Pillar after stone white pillar pass me by when something forces me to turn and look towards the pond. There you stand, in your usual spot with a smile for me.  I’ve missed you so much. I toss the handful of papers I was carrying off to the side and they flutter to the floor as they fall. I run so hard towards you that it feels like I might crack a rib. I get to the spot where you were at and can’t find you anywhere. I’m left spinning in circles, searching for you.

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            I’m exhausted. I wasn’t able to sleep the previous night. I crawl into our bed wearing my baby blue sleep romper. A million years later in a massive room designed for two I’m finally able to drift into a deep sleep. Everything is silent and undisturbed, but I know you’re behind me, and then I feel your arm wrap around my waist, pulling me towards you. Afraid that if I turn around, I’ll wake up and this will all just be some sort of miserable dream, I remain facing away my back leaning on your body. It feels so good to have you with me in this bed again, and then you whisper in my ear, that you love me and that you’re still alive. My body jolts up to make sure it really is you only to find that it’s still just me. Alone in this empty room. I run my fingers through my hair, and my head keeps shaking, because it knows the truth, but my heart feels like loving you forever can’t be wrong.

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            I head to the market first thing in the morning to get out of that house. Every inch of it is smothered with memories of us. As I walk through the aisles I see you leaving the store. You and I are going to talk this time, my love. I run out of the store chasing after you and find you walking down the sidewalk. Today you’ll give me some answers. I grab the back of your shoulders, spinning you around to face me, but I’m greeted with the very confused face of a stranger. It was never you.

            I have to get home. I should have never left. After I return, I run straight to our bedroom and throw open your closet door. The black jacket to the suit I bought you last Christmas is hanging in the front. I pull it off the hanger, wrapping it around my shoulders. It’s the closest my body has been to yours in what feels like a lifetime, and I’m grateful that it’s drenched in the smell of you.

Where did these tears come from and when did they begin? They roll down my cheeks and take me with them as I fall to the floor. My hands cling onto the white rug. You were and always will be my one true love.

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            Months have gone by and there’s a young doctor who keeps asking me on dates. Doesn’t he know that nothing compares to you? Doesn’t he know that I’m in love with the memory of a dead man? My parents force me to go, they say it’s for my own sake. Tonight will be our third date. I’m cooking dinner for us tonight because I don’t want to leave this place. When I’m not in our house I feel like you and I are even further apart. The doctor said he likes pizza so that’s what I’m whipping up. The chime from the doorbell echoes throughout our house so I go to greet the tall man. He follows me into the kitchen. He sits at the table and sips on some whiskey. The food is ready. I begin to place it on plates when he gets up, walks over to me, and places his arms around my body. His lips gently kiss me on the cheek and then he whispers in my ear, I love you. My stomach sinks and I know what he is waiting to hear, but those words are far from my lips, lost somewhere in a different universe. What I really want to tell him is the truth, that I miss the man that once taught me how to kiss, my husband, and that the sound of his name makes every corner of my body come alive. I wish he was the one standing there saying, I love you.

            I suddenly realize I let the silence between the doctor and I last too long. I peck him on the cheek and turn to grab the plates of pizza I had been working on. I can feel my heart shaking, because it knows the truth, but my head is nodding, because it thinks it’s time for me to move on.