A Source of Suffering

First of all, I’d like to inform you that his wife is not at home.

“Morning, love, I’ll get your breakfast done”, Carl said to the empty bed as soon as he jumped from it.

It’s already been 2 years since the accident, and I’m starting to pity him. You see, sometimes people cannot accept reality, so they change their surroundings and turn it into their ideal world.

Of course, that happened before, every creation since humanity was caused by someone who did not like what they saw when not dreaming. Every medicine, ideology, revolution. It’s the unsatisfied people who rule the world and its changes.

Our Delusioned Carl fried 2 oversalted eggs so his “wife” could satisfy herself. The smell of oil impregnated her clothes, “I got to change you later”, but the delicious watermelon juice scent had her trembling in happiness.

Carla is the name you are asking. They met at a mental institution 36 months before the accident, so it’s not as if she did not know what she was getting into beforehand. But she accepted the terms of service, blinded by the burning passion.

I find myself overjoyed by it, don’t you?

After ironing a gorgeous all-blue tunic dress, Poor Carl searched for his wife.

She was not to be found in the kitchen, where she should wait for her food. Nor the bedroom, where she should be resting. After all, people should rest after accidents.

“Accidents?”, Carl was confused, why this thought stuck with him? Maybe because he had lost his wife 2 years ago?

Maybe.

The bathroom door was closed, of course, she was crying inside, she always did this. He could not understand, though, as his efforts were enormous and made specially to make her happy.

“Love, come out, I know it’s difficult, but I can fix this”, he yelled with his ears on the wall. She must’ve stopped so he would not get stressed, as he could not hear a thing from the inside.

Well, there are times in which you should fight, and others when you should retreat.

He was only a project of a proactive human being, so the second option was obvious.

After leaving her dress on their bed, he looked through the window, as if there was something for him to see outside. There was, in fact, a woman his age with her sad blue eyes aimed at him.

Carl did not go out to breathe some fresh air in the past 3 weeks, he was convinced that Carla needed him and would not survive in his absence.

I think it was quite the opposite.

His hands grabbed a portrait of a blue-eyed angel he used to sleep with every single day. 2 years ago, of course.

“Used to? I… where’s my love? It’s been so much time I don’t confess to her, maybe that’s the source of her…”

He could not pronounce that tiny blue word, he did not like reality, after all.

“Carl, please, I don’t want you to be sad when I go, I want you to remember the good moments, never the bad ones”, Carla said with what he recognized as watermelon juice tainting her dress.

But… why was it so red?

He could not experience the pain of his broken legs, adrenaline was pumping through his veins and his memory would not help him later.

It was raining, the other driver came with those drunk eyes tearing and announced how sorry he was, how he did not intend to cause so much…

“... suffering?...”, Carl had his fingers dancing on his denim pants. His wife should not make him wait so much, he had to do something about it.

The tunic dress jumped to his forearm, showing a huge brownish stain on the belly.

“Carla”, bang bang bang, he tried to get her attention by punching the door.

“I know you’ve being depressive since the…”

2 years ago, Carl, remember what happened.

“I know… you haven’t said you love me in 2 years! You haven’t said anything in the last 2 years!”

His back slid the door until his coccyx touched the hard, cold floor.

“I don’t know what else to do…” his dried-blood-like brown eyes moistened, “I want you to be happy, I want everything to go back to normal, but…”

Well, our Little Tiny Carl there had to make his choice. He could not live every one of his lasting days as if his wife was still with him. The accident was 2 years ago, he had to overcome it sometime.

However, there was a strange pleasure in the false life he created, he could love someone who would never be against him, who would never make her own decisions, her own mistakes.

Drops of oversalted water rained in the blue-and-brownish tunic dress. Carl tightened his grip. The doorbell rang, who could this be?

“Man, please, call 911, I can’t feel my legs and she is bleeding so much!”, Carl’s scream showed Carla an unknown and caring side of him.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”, the drunk voice repeated itself like a broken record.

Carl looked at his wife, only to see something that would curse him for the next 2 years: her head tilted forward, soon after her lips showed him the saddest smile he had seen in his brief life. He knew he had to do something, otherwise, they would die.

Otherwise, she would die.

The man’s arms threw themselves to the drunk pocket. He tried to feel something hard enough to be a cellphone.

He failed.

“I… didn’t…”

The other pocket! The drunk man kept with his “I’m sorry” repeating, while Carl finally found his salvation!

No, her salvation.

He grabbed Carla’s hands.

Freezing.

“Carla… I failed…”

Sirens.

“I… didn’t… she’s…”

The door occupied a greater portion of his field of vision.

“She’s alive! She’s alive! Get her to the surgery room NOW!”, was it the nurse’s voice? Carl was cold. So much light. He did not feel the rain anymore.

“Alive…”

His hands reached the iron-freezing doorknob. He turned it.

“Carl, I know it’s been a dramatic experience, but you can’t lie to yourself anymore, your wife is…”

“What?...”

The entrance door revealed something he could never have waited for.

He made his choice, he accepted the truth, didn’t he? His wife was not in his bed, in the kitchen, nor in the bathroom. She should not be anywhere.

2 years ago, she was nowhere to be found.

After that damned accident, she could not be found.

And that was the lesson of the story, to accept the truth, to not need someone who is not there.

And he learned it.

He learned to let her go.

So.

Why?

Why was Carla standing in front of him?

“Your wife is alive, she didn’t die that day, and she is trying to be with you again ever since. Stop ignoring her, stop ignoring the truth. You are not to be pitied, you are no widower, she needs you and what are you being for her? A source of…”

“Suffering”.