Awful Tuesday Night
I have to tell you. I know it’s not good timing. I can’t hold it back anymore.
Every day since our awful Tuesday night, there is an image I keep seeing over and over.
You, on the couch.
Legs pulled up next to you.
Face looking at the floor.
Skin sunken.
Eyes streaming tears.
A hand wiping them away.
I see this image when I wake up. I see it when I walk through the kitchen. I see it when I’m taking care of the kids. When I’m driving. When I’m at work. When I’m talking to someone else. Anyone else. When I am getting out of the shower. Ordering Starbucks. And in case I have forgotten, I see this image when I lay down to go to sleep.
It is breaking me.
The content, veracity, silliness, seriousness, strength, weakness, who’s right or who’s wrong…the problems of the moment…the place life has either of us at…I don’t know and I don’t care.
What I saw is that something I did, something I said, something I was in that moment…hurt you. Sliced.
It is haunting me. The regret, the sorrow, the distress, the torment…I can’t get past it.
And I shouldn’t. It is this which creates the strength of mind to change, to learn. To protect. It is experiences like this which cultivate the compassion for you, to learn and understand what hurts you deeply, and in that love re-orient to keep you safe.
I can’t avoid hurting you. But I can show you love by vulnerably and authentically expressing my sorrow and regret. And I will continue to show you love by growing through it and placing you higher than I place myself.
But I will still be haunted. And I should be.
