The Unseen and the Seen, Part II
He punched streetlights. They were metal. They were there. He also punched telephone poles and anything else that could take the hit. It unnerved those around him, but he didn't care.
People either loved Clark or they did not. He could be opinionated, aggressive, funny, entertaining, infuriating, loving, and loud. He inspired, he motivated, he made mistakes and he excelled. Driven by enough visions and goals to fill ten lives, Clark seldom slowed down. “Move like you have a purpose!” he would say when we walked.
I had no idea -- nor did he -- that his personality was driven by high-octane, highly flamable fuel; that he was seeing the world through an oddly cut lens that made things very large and quite small.
It was 1995, Clark was living nearby, and we planned to get married. I couldn't see the proverbial forest for the trees.
Tension and dissention
I can’t remember when the trouble began, or what caused it to occur. Perhaps Clark was frustrated with his job. Whatever the provocation, however, his response was to pull the covers over his head and stay home.
It seemed he was also becoming more irritable, often snapping at me for reasons unknown. That his responses were disproportionate to the situations was obvious. But I didn't know why.
Marry me, marry me – Oh, happy day
Our hearts overflowing with glee
We’re coming together to start a new life
On a wondrous day for all to see
Marry me, carry me, walk me through life
Meet the adventures we’ll share
Help me and hold me through good times and strife
Let me know you’ll always care
Scary me, I’ll agree, but it’s a phase
That will come and then will go
Just like the fun and the laughter we have
We’ll swing with my highs and my lows
But you’ll bury me, you must see, with all those rules
About rent and electric and phone
And food and the lawn and insurance and gas
Don’t you see, I have rules of my own
I have problems to solve, and things I must do
And my writing and study and such
I’ve a personal mission in life to fulfill
And some road trips still left in my truck
Besides, I’m an artist, don’t bother me, please
As I wasn’t born to this life
But you should keep up the work you do, my dear
And be very strong, for you’re my wife
(Continued in "The Unseen and the Seen" parts III and IV)
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