Sunday 18 May 2008
21:30 | Posted by
Dale Darley |
I stare into the teasing flames, mind cast back, lost in thought.
There must have been together times, chopping veg, sharing wine and discussing the day. Food made, dinner served, contemplating the night. Snuggled together, warm smooth skin, kisses, sex and sleep. Waking dreamily and staring into each others eyes, caressing love thirsty skin.
As the flames lick and weave a dance around each other I see rising passions, entwining each other in silly games. As sure as the life is sucked out of the fire, day turns to night, energy is drained from romance.
At first he said that he loved my wild and free ways. Over time he tried to mould me into the woman he thought he had. Complaining about my shoes, plugs left in the sockets, ironing undone, demanding tea or declaring I’d hidden his mail. Cleaning up was woman’s work. He shouts “pass me a can” whilst sprawled on the sofa, dirty baggy joggers pulled over the ever growing paunch. The TV now entertains him and conversation certainly strains him.
In the shadow of my mind I see a monster on the sofa, mesmerised like a rabbit caught in the headlights I thought that I couldn’t escape. His behaviour crept in slowly, insidiously, trapped, it was too late before I realised I was powerless to act, my identity enmeshed with his, I was crushed.
The dying embers of the fire bring a chill to the room. Glowing volcanic rocks tell me that even though the flames of love have died down, there is hope. I poke the ashes and set about recreating the fire ready for tomorrow night.
By morning I am like a chrysalis emerging from the hard shell that bound me to his dark cocoon, I am reborn. Somehow I found an inner strength. I can smell the fresh breath of morning freedom, see blue skies ready to let me spread my wings. The once gentle caress given freely will no longer fall from his finger tips. Given time, the right person and ingredients, the flames can be re kindled. Until then.
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