He came back.
He came back, just like he said he would, except it took him more than two weeks to go home. I have been waiting for him for God knows how long, and despite the tears, the anguish, and the fear of him dying far away from his family, somehow, I still had hope. He came back, with his face bruised, blood splattered all over it and his knuckles red from exertion... from the blood they got on, from perhaps some bruises he got after punching faces way too hard. His outfit was cut here and there, torn here and there and his hair was disheveled. I didn't know what to make out of it but it was obvious that he had been in a fight. My first instinct was to go to him and slap the shit out of his face. I have been worried sick for weeks because he didn't contact us. We didn't hear from him. We didn't know if he was alive or dead. Mind you, if he had been killed, all of Birmingham would have known. Still.. I had to slap him for him to know just how much I was hurt by his absence.
He didn't flinch, he didn't quip.. he didn't do anything but stood right there before me. I noticed he was shaking and I remembered a conversation we had, where he explained to me that he got the shakes when he had to kill someone up close and personal. What could I say? What could I do if not help him? I put aside my anger and I led him to our bed. I started to clean the blood off of his hands first. I cleaned thoroughly and I went on to clean his neck, his face, and his hair. We didn't speak because what could be said? I think... when I started to clean his hair, that’s when he wrapped his arms around my waist. I let him do it. I let him get close to me because I knew he needed my comfort. I knew he was having a PTSD episode. How could I not give him a way to anchor himself back into reality? I couldn't deny him so I let him hold me.
« I didn’t want to leave you alone. I didn’t mean to. » -I knew he did. He never lied to me.-
« I know. »
« I wanted to go home, Mary. I needed to go home. » -He moaned out. I could feel the pain in his voice. He was so lost that for a moment I just forgot about my own feelings. All I wanted was for him to feel safe and to be cleaned from the blood he had on him-
« I know you hate it when I am not here for too long. I keep promising you that I would come back and I keep disappointing you. » -A truth about the situation. At long last he's acknowledging it, but I know that it's only because he's in distress right now.-
« It is the way it is… I know you want to come home but your line of work…. Your ambition would always make it impossible for you… »
« Mary… please. Stop trying to make excuses for me. You are hurt. I know it. »
« ……. »
I was left speechless for a moment because as much as I could see "through him" at this moment, he was able to see right through me.
« And you want me to be home so I can be with you and Charlie. You want me to see my son…so don’t tell me that you understand. Don't tell me you're fine... »
« Tom…. You are a Black stallion. I can’t ask you to chain yourself to your family when it’s not in your nature. Do I want to see you more? Yes, I do. I don’t want to love an image. I don’t want to love a memory. I want to love /you/. To be able to show it to you…. But at the same time, because I love you, I can’t ask you to stay here with us….When I know you yearn for your freedom. »
I was shaking and Tom noticed it. He could see that my eyes were slowly getting filled with unshed tears. He could see that I was upset but I was trying not to be. He could see that I wished for him to be home more often...But I couldn't tell him these words because it would be akin to chaining him to me. He was a free man and nothing and no one should come between him and his freedom. I knew he loved me... I knew he cared but I also knew that he needed to leave and be by himself. I guess... His face warmed up and I could see that his thousand-yard stare was gone now that he had noticed I was hurting. He was back into reality.. back to me.
« Then, it is said. I am hurting you. I am making you sad. » -He stroked my back and arm and as I released his face, he snuggled against my frame. I didn't know what to do for a couple seconds but I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kept him close to my heart.
« Please forgive me, Mary. »
« You are already forgiven, Tommy. » -I meant it-
« I can be selfish. I know it. And there are days when my desires would always trump anyone else’s… but I came home because I wanted to. Because I needed to. I needed to see you, Mary. I needed to feel you. If you leave I…. »
« I won’t leave... » I ran my hand through his hair. « How could I do such a thing? »
I would never no matter how hard it is, choose to leave Tom. We have been in each other's lives for a decade, I saw him overcome hardships, be punished by God, trying to redeem himself. I watched him go through so much and still move forward. Battered and bruised but still alive. It became obvious to me, that I had fallen for him after the death of Grace. It became even more obvious to me after John died. Tommy was the man I chose to love and the man I would always support, no matter where I decided to go. Still, there was some truth in his words. I was so focused on his happiness that I forgot about mine. What did I want? What did I need? What did I wish for myself? I wanted a family. I wanted to have something for myself. I wanted him...to be in my life. I wanted a family and I wanted him to be a part of it. I was hurting because he was away for far too long and more and more which left us with little to no time spent together. I felt that he wanted to leave me, that he needed to breathe, and that I couldn't bring him any peace... It was killing me inside and I couldn't find the right way to tell him. So I didn't.
« You could leave because you deserve better than what I give you. I am... not giving you what you deserve. I can clearly see it. And yet you stay here. »
I cut him short. I yelled a little bit because I couldn't just accept what he was saying to me.
« Enough! Enough, Tom! I am not your prisoner, Tom. Love might not be a choice, but staying here is… I choose to stay!! I choose you… regardless of the heartache… of the loneliness…. I choose our family. » I kept stroking his hair. « You are an extraordinary man. I can’t lock you in a mundane life because it doesn’t suit you. I will always be there, Tom... Because I love you and because I want to be.»
It seemed to have shut the conversation down for the time being. I knew he listened. I knew he understood and I could feel that he was breathing normally again. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head, holding him as tight as I could.
No comments:
Post a Comment