Life and Death

I sit alone cross legged on the floor, leaning against the couch watching the minutes tick by... listening to the thunder crash and watching the lightening brilliantly slicing through the darkness lighting up cobwebs shining in the darkened corners of the outer reaches of a forgotten room.  I sit, eyes on the phone, ever staring- clinging desperately to the hope that something-anything- will happen.  Just a ring, a beep, the smallest thing to let me know he is ok. 

               

Constant worry-not only for his well being, but for his soul.  It is as if she is killing him, little by little, day by day, second by second... every word that passes through her foul unclean mouth hurts him a little more than the last.  I find myself swept away into memories better left forgotten - days when only my calm sanity talked him out of the unthinkable, when I could only hope and pray for something to take her away, out of his life and into a place where she could never wrap her filthy shroud around him, suffocating him - taking him further into the dark abyss, never to return. 

Death isn't easy.  It's something that's tragic, or sad, sometimes it is unexpected and horrifying, you find yourself in constant denial, unable to comprehend what life would be like without him.  In one corner of my mind, I find myself thinking that death is a saviour for some, a way to let go, and escape from their pain and misery, all it takes is one second - a moment of loneliness or a flash of weakness, and you will never get them back. I find myself wondering what would happen if he kept going on this lonely highway... 

     

He has so much life left to give, I just hope he can see through her thick shroud, attacking his senses, and taking him farther away from his last little bit of sanity.  All I have ever wanted him to realize is that he is not alone and he never will be as long as he is willing to let me in.  The phone rings, I leap to grab at it-my knuckles white, hands shaking... I pick up the reciever and say hello, nothing comes out.  I speak up, my voice cracking with worry, and stress. 

        

I hear his voice and collapse onto the floor in a bawling heap... No words can explain my relief.  For one more day I have the one thing I hold dearest to me. Him. He Is My Life.