He loved her but it didn’t show:gave her protection from a distance; understanding without a sense of intimacy. Just some guy in a cubicle crunching numbers through the working day: it wasn’t climbing Everest but it paid the bills.
“Hey Bill” she’d call, asking for advice, given, always, without a comment. Some years before, and in another place, he had been king of the track and a centre of influence but that was then: wheel- chair bound after some horrific accident he kept his glories to himself, and ambitions safely packed at home. The evenings were never short; unfilled hours, stacked upon themselves, bought no relief from his reflective solitude. He loved her but it wouldn’t show.
Now the day had come, her smiling lit-up face telling all the news; the diamond on her finger, the crowds of workers circling her desk , asking for the details behind the grin. Without access, his chair was poor in crowds, he worked as if no news could touch him. The numbers queued up on the page, commanding attention: patient, ordered, logical.
Desire was the door to pain. Wanting left you in a desert. Silence was his dearest friend. Why should he embarrass what he most respected. Some awkward guy, buckled in his chariot, quick of mind but lacking feet: young but long without his youth.
“Hey Bill” she said, moving over and standing by his chair, fingers extended in that glowing way. Sadness surfaced briefly in his eyes, saying what she never knew: his heart was like an orphanage for dreams. “I’m very pleased for you Sarah:” he spoke in monotone. Caught off-guard she stared into his depths, but now restored to ordered symmetry. “I wish you joy.”
Not all we feel is for consumption. Not all mountains can be climbed. For some, he thought, love must always be impersonal.
ohh that is sad… but written so well 🙂
LikeLike
Agreed! I really like this.
LikeLike
Like Ina’s comments…so beautifully written and yet so so sad. I just love your sentence…His heart was like an orphanage for dreams. So touching.
LikeLike
me too – great imagery!
LikeLike
You can evoke any and every emotion with your words Peter. That is such an amazing gift. Well done.
b
LikeLike
Oh, that is so sad.
LikeLike
Wow! You brought tears to my eyes with this poignant, sad story.
LikeLike
This man is in many places
LikeLike
Your every sentence is a metaphor unto itself. You have an innate talent my friend and use it to its utmost. I’m sure every one of your readers knows this poor chap in their lives and has hurt for him as they hurt for your protagonist.
LikeLike
You comments always help more than you know. Thankyou
LikeLike
Noooooo! Rewrite. This man deserves a happy ending. Please?
I feel a little sad now 😦
LikeLike
I know. I’m sorry Kirri. We don’t always get the ending we merit, in life as in fiction.
LikeLike
So sad, and so real.
LikeLike
Thankyou
LikeLike
Poignant and touching. I have to ask, did you have a particular inspiration for this?
LikeLike
It’s just the result of general observation and musing. You know how it is
LikeLike
So beautifully written, this piece Peter. And such a very sad truth too. There must me so many such situations out there. Oh I so feel the need to give him a hug, but that would probably seem condescending. And if I am having these strong feelings it just confirms what strong writing this is!!!
I love “his ambitions safely packed away at hone” thats such a moving line. 🙂
LikeLike
Your comments always inspire me to try harder. I truly appreciate them
LikeLike
You write as if you know. I mean, as if you lived this scene. Amazing.
LikeLike
Luckily I haven’t lived this scene, but its more common than we think
LikeLike
Beautiful and poignant, Peter. What a love she probably missed!
‘For some, he thought, love must always be impersonal.’
It happens often, for many reasons, in different situations … that sense of being disabled in terms of letting one’s feelings be known, of cheating oneself of what might be possible.
LikeLike
Honestly, reading this I felt his pain. And I agree with Lorna, it really does feel like a scene from the movie. It was playing out in my head while reading
LikeLike
Wow. Powerful post, and without even realizing it, I was envisioning this scene in my head the whole time. Your words are so descriptive I felt I was there, and in some way, I have been Bill. Haven’t we all?
LikeLike
My eyes are welling up with tears as I’m writing this.
LikeLike
Very nicely written. We can say it’s ‘sad’ while at the same time ignoring the ‘Bill’ in our own offices and on our commutes. Of course, Bill makes himself so very easy to ignore as he’s decided, on his own, that his physical limitations equal emotional ones. Bill, like all of us, decides what can and can not be shown.
Very nice writing!
LikeLike
Poignant…
LikeLike
Reminds me of a guy I dated years ago… loving but distant. Quite sad really.
TY for inquiring about me. Lets just say it’s been a long and challenging year with many pressing demands for my time. I have unpublished drafts and writing I’ve done offline and I hope to get back on track sometime. Thanks again for your support as I miss the camaraderie of the community.
Eliz
LikeLike
That is really beautiful; in a very sad way.
LikeLike
Wow, so real, so tender, so rich in emotion. I loved every word.
LikeLike
Beautiful.
And really, THIS is what true one-sided love ought to look like, in my ideal place.
LikeLike
Incredible writing. I may be eighty and have seen a lot of life and writing about life, but few come up to this standard.
LikeLike
This reminds me of Chekhov: the writer chappy, not the one sitting next to Mr Sulu.
LikeLike
Your words made me cry. Beautifully written. So sad.
LikeLike
Poignant and lovely. Beautifully written. 🙂
LikeLike
that was touching. deeply heartbreaking.
LikeLike
Very touching. I can relate to this post. Thank you for writing this, and thanks for visiting my blog.
LikeLike
Your fellow made assumptions about the girl and himself – there was no choice for her. However, I can understand a little since I’ve had Rheumatoid Arthritis for over 40 years and have often felt my husband deserves a more able bodied wife who can keep up with him. One of the childhood programs from my parents was to make sure I am safe and secure before venturing out – hence I did not take risks. It is scary and very much out of one’s comfort zone to take a risk, but look what he lost. Very well written – I too was right there in the office watching it all happen.
LikeLike
Touching, and well done!
LikeLike
Beautiful beautiful
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Melissa Smithe's Blog and commented:
No comment. 🙂
LikeLike