The Shattering . . .
Was I inside a nightmare . . .
Please do not console me with
words that simply comfort for a few moments, then vanish. With soft promises of you, "being there," and "having my back," for you won't. He didn't. Oh, at first, three short years ago, in my shoddy dreams of enduring love where I had the gall to believe this monster. No words can heal what I have. Not prayer. Not sleep. And not even music, so do not write me any ballads to express how "I" feel. I don't need them. I don't need you.
And please, do not bring your minister
to confide in my pain and "act" like he understands just how dark and ugly the hallway to Hell really feels to the soles of my feet, for he doesn't. He is just a mortal like me. The only difference is that he wears a different pattern of life. And clothes that never fit the likes of me.
Oh, don't bother handing me the tissues, for I will spend the next two days just weeping like a baby unashamed of a tarnished deed. I sit by myself and the thoughts of "his" daggered-words, "babe, I need to tell you something . . ." bombard my shattered heart like bastard vultures looking for a dead meal. That's right! I said it. Bastard vultures. That's all you and your kind are. Bastard vultures circling me, awaiting one final chance to rip the remainder of what's left of my flesh from my broken bones. Go ahead! Get to it and don't act sorry, for you can't. You probably sabotaged that one moment I had dreamed of with my one love on that mute wooden bridge. The moment when my aching lips and yearning loins would meet his flesh and the heat from our love would drive us to madness. You know. Like those expressive couples in New York do. They love openly. And in outdoor restaurants with stone-faced waiters holding small containers of coffee. I wanted that. I dreamed of that. But when this "monster," in a three-piece suit said, "babe, I need to tell you something . . ." my intestines actually tied in a knot. But who am I kidding? I knew it was coming. But you know, a kid when he plays with his truck at Christmas never dreams things like "this" could happen to him. And they don't! Just a sucker like me. A girl with good looks, wit, a body to kill for, and a gullible heart. That's who gets the axe, my friend.
In that one moment
when "he" said those infected-words, " babe, there's something I need to tell you . . ." I actually, for one moment of vanished belief, thought he was going to ask for some money for his trip to Los Angeles next week. I curse myself for bleeding in my soul like I am doing now. Idiots and gullible entities like me are "wonders of God," because no priest can explain why "we" are on this earth to begin with. And sometimes when "that" thought enters my head, I laugh. But only for a moment.
I used to love dancing with "him." Now I wish death on the talented men and women of the music industry. I truly believe that they know me by name, for hey, I bought all of their CD's and DVD's. They should know me. But they never wrote me a song for when "this" walk with uncertain love began three years ago. It was dancing barefoot in the fountains of the city letting my silk dress get soaked to he could see "me" underneath. I would giggle and flirt water on him and he would sigh at my teasing. How stupid can one girl be? Why does love have to con women like me? Can you answer that my muted friend? You are just sitting there at my bedside listening to my moans and broken songs. I hate you. I wish I were you for a day. Why? Because "you" have no feelings. No heart or soul to be stolen. You my silent ally, are invincible. Whereas I am slop in the road for cars to run over. That sums it up.
What will "I" do now?
Well, that is not only a dumb question, but an unneeded query. I don't need anyone asking questions when I am not dressed. I hate my nakedness. Even in privacy. I hate how I am made. I hate why I was made. What? Don't blame yourself, you say? Please leave. Now. Oh, it was "his," fault more than mine. I see. I am not stupid, for I have a Master's Degree in Sociology, but not a learning in shattering of the heart. I guess God didn't want us women to experience the ultimate freedom of being "had" in bed and being able to leave with a clear conscience. Whore? No way. I hate whores. I am a sorta just woman. I have morals. I "used to have" occasional sex with "him," and he would lay with me and talk of dreams we could build. And eat our breakfasts in a bedroom filled with Sunday morning sun. Not "his" fault, but mine for just believing. That's it, my friend. For just believing.
What did he have to say to me with that "babe, I need to tell you something . . .?" Oh, something about being stagnant with our place in our relationship and some other "b.s." he learned from Yale. He should have just been a man with balls and said, "sweetie, I need to break up with you, for there is another vagina waiting for me in town," and be done with it. I would have respected him for that even though my heart was shattered. But "he" was no man. Just a few good times in silk sheets and a opaque promise to a future I never will know.
I will just sit here for awhile in my bay window and watch the children play in the snow. You go on leave. Your husband worries about you so. I wish I had that.
Don't get any wrinkles about my shattering life. It has been shattered before. And I managed to rebuild it from thek few honored pieces I could find laying in the dirt.
I'll rebuild. Go on now. Your supper will get cold. I will rebuild.
Just wish I knew how.
All are shadows, just smoke and shadows
Comments
AUTHORRahulo324,
thank you, my humble friend, for your kind words. I can sense in your words that you have a sensitive heart. Hold on to that and never let the poisions of this world change you.
You are a very rare person. Always know that.
The pain is painted all across the words... I can see it.
Brilliantly woven masterpiece
- AUTHOR
Hello, padmendra,
Thanks to you for your kind attention and words of encouragement. I agree with you that sometimes in life, words only clutter the vision of something so painful that the situation stands by itself.
You have a gift for discernment, my friend. Take care. And thanks again.
- AUTHOR
dghbrh: Thank you for taking the time to read my hub and leave such an amazing comment that leaves me humbled. I appreciate you for that. Take care and be safe.
When your heart is broken at the hands of one you love, no words are there to match or express your pain as loving someone means gaining nothing in return. Life stuck at one corner with lots of sorrows and tears accompanying you except the one you loved. This way you have expressed so beautifully that a loving heart will not require any more emotion to cry. ..
Its awesome to feel the deep emotions of the other side of the table, but to express so well is something a different game altogether. You are outshining yourself in this one like all the hubbers been saying above. Thanks for sharing this one. Great work really. Votes up excluding the funny part and sharing too.
- AUTHOR
@ Bella,
"GREAT!"
Deal.
- AUTHOR
My Dear Bella . . .no, do not change your photo back. I love this one. And thank YOU SO MUCH first, for your friendship and sheer-understanding of ME and my thoughts, sometimes dark, but honest, and second for your great, touching comments, dear friend. Please stay in touch with me, for I need to talk to someone sometimes.
Deal?
Dear Kenneth ~ we are already followers of each other. I changed my profile picture, so perhaps you did not recognize me. Maybe I should change it back!!
- AUTHOR
Dear sweet Bella (love that name),
I am humbled. Without words of my own, to say "thank you," for YOUR sweet and sensitive words and thoughts. "Shattering," is worse than a casual break-up. A "shattering," to me, is the end of a long relationship, say over four years, and things are going great until he or she starts acting nervous and quiet for no reason and that far-away mental state, well, I am like you. God do not allow these painful moments to come over anyone in your creation.
And Bella, may I invite YOU to be one of my followers so I can keep up with your wonderful way of writing?
I would love that.
KENNETH
Kenneth ~
I barely have words, and the ones I do are choking me. The only comfort may come in knowing that this is not the experience of one person only, if that can be any comfort. What repairs a shattered heart? And then our head tortures us and chastises our bleeding, bruised and completely broken heart.
Thank you for writing this and thank you for the gift that this writing is to the world. God spare those who have not this experience to never encounter it.
- AUTHOR
Dear Debra,
Thank you so much, but I value YOUR comments just as much. Have a great day.
Kenneth
Trumbs up! The writers before me says it all!
- AUTHOR
Warm greetings, picklesandrufus,
"I say this with such respect I cannot express it via words. Coming from a true-talent such as yourelf, I am beyond words of gratitude for your kind and positive remark." "You are not only a good person, but a person whom I value in my life." "May God bless you, your family, and all of the endeavors you pursue."
Your Friend,
Kenneth
What a great piece of writing Kenneth. You take your reader along for an awesome ride. Vote way up!!
- AUTHOR
Thank YOU . . .Gypsyroselee, for your very-warm and supportive comment. YOU and Lucky Cats, as well as all of the GREAT people who commented on this hub, are TERRIFIC Friends and I wouldn't trade YOU ALL for all the gold in Asia.
That is a bankable comment.
KENNETH
- AUTHOR
Dear Lucky Cats,
Again, I am severely-humbled by your words. They are now burned into my heart. When I get depressed from now on, I will just say, "oh yeah, those sweet comments from my DEAR friend, Lucky Cats," and begin to feed on those kind remarks.
You and I are asking the same question: Why do liars behind smiles always seek the pretty, warm-hearted girls to hurt? Is it a power trip? Or an ego thing? Either one, it is WRONG. And very deadly in the powers of our universe because these powers have a way to always catch-up to these "beasts," and remind them, sometimes through pain, what they did to the weak and helpless.
Right?
Thanks, DEAR Friend, Lucky Cats!
You are a Gem of a Friend.
KENNETH
Voted up. Great hub. You picked up a woman's true emotions. Been at the end of that line gotta tell you something. I'll tell you one of my emotions was to want to rip out the guys tongue while he was ripping out my heart. Luckily that was age ago and I have found my soulmate and we're doing just fine. You have quite a talent.
Hi Kenneth....you've posed the eternal question: why do some feed off the vulnerability, innocence, honesty and trust of others? What do they hope to gain? It's like a 'canned hunt.' The "victim" has no choice and nowhere to run. In the case of your story; she WAS very trusting and had a belief in what was before her; she believed her impression which, I imagine, is exactly the impression he wished to project. Then, he played her like a fool and lowers the boom....and walks away; impervious to the life he has just shattered.
Yes, I wonder why those w/the "power" prey upon those with little power. Always have wondered about this...
maybe; the "powerful" one isn't so strong, afterall; and must feed off the "good" to fill the cavernous abyss which (he / she) carries which is "bad."
Amazing work of art; Kenneth...my my my how you have become a stellar author!!!
- AUTHOR
Hello, on August 9, 2012 at 2:41 p.m., CDST,
Angela,
Thanks for the wonderful, uplifting comments. I cannot thank you enough and the rest of my CHERISHED FRIENDS ON HUBS who, and this includes you, are MORE TALENTED in my eyes than me.
You and yours have a safe day.
KENNETH
- AUTHOR
Dear Catgypsy,
I thank you from an humble, and yet, scarred heart that does feel for women who are treated like dirt, by men who think they are IT. Such men do not deserve to breathe the same air as the women they hurt.
Sorry, but this angry side of me is easily-ignited when I see and hear of girls and women being run-over by jerks.
Thanks for reading and commenting. You are a Terrific Ally.
KENNETH and FESTUS
- AUTHOR
Hi, Breakfastpop,
First of all, where have you been for so long? I used to see you all of the time. I guess that you, like all of my GREAT FOLLOWERS, do have a life to live. I forget that many times, but I miss you regardless.
Thanks for the sweet words and votes.
Your Friend in HubVille,
Kenneth
- AUTHOR
Hello, Jaye,
I didn't know that I could make you angry at one of the people in my hubs. Wow, what a compliment. Thank you, Jaye, for making my day a bit brighter.
Bless you.
Kenneth
- AUTHOR
Dear Lucky Cats,
Yes, I did write this and it was a REAL emotion that I picked-up on when I was viewing a documentary about one such woman who trusted (her first mistake) a good-looking and sensitive man. She loved this guy with such passion, emotionally, physically and mentally, she was her "god," notice the little "g," and one day he said those soul-piercing words that sent her life into a spiral that took her almost eight years to recover.
Was I angry at this jerk? What do you think? With this smugness, London Fog raincoat, expensive clothes and shoes and always having to have a manicure with his personally-designed hair from a hairstylist who charged him $300.0o a pop!
I felt for this woman to the point of feeling the red anger burning in her loins, heart and spirit. I dwelled on the fact, well a question, as to why a man with such good looks and charm, stab such a lovely girl straight in her heart and then in the back?
Lucky, this was, in my opinion, (and IM NOT SELFISH OR SMUG), a tough hub to write, but I just had to stand up for women who have been stabbed in the heart and back and lived.
Thank you, Dear Lucky, for being a good friend and critic.
KENNETH
Amazing piece of work,Kenneth -- congratulations are in order and kudos to you. Best/Sis
You never cease to amaze me with your talent. This is such an unusual and wonderful piece of work.
I am astounded. This is moving and heart wrenching that it is hard to understand how you got into the heart and soul of this woman. I can't vote this high enough. Up and totally amazing.
Kenneth....This is an amazing story! I could almost hear the broken-hearted woman talking to her friend as I read ... hear the self-loathing in her voice because she's so angry with herself for being taken in by that jerk. (See? You've got me mad at him, too, and he's an imaginary character, but came alive in my mind.)
Voted Up and Awesome.
Jaye
Kenneth....you wrote this? In the first person female? How amazing! Did you share with a close female friend; her hurt, pain and agony? Or is this a creation sprung from your imagination?
I am speechless, Kenneth. You are able to speak from your character's sense of loss in such a palpable, convincing way.
Pure talent, Kenneth.
Though I left these feelings behind a long time ago; I do rememer having felt this way, in the long ago past. You've detailed the waves of emotion, loss, anger, disbelief, impatience w/others' attempts to soothe....in such a convincing way.
You are a true talent; ever growing and ever surprisig!
UP useful interesting awesome....and beautiful in that you created this first person in opposite gender. Fantastic, Kenneth.
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