Recovering from heartbreak

Between hope and despondancy

I look at my wife across the kitchen counter. She is sipping her tea, and its almost how things were before. There is peace in the room. The little one is playing in the corner. And I am almost lulled into a sense of happiness. Perhaps, this moment could last. 

We have many such moments. And thats what makes it so hard. She stands not inches away from me. And I wish I could reach out and hold her. Re-assure her that I love her so deeply and completely.

But she is a world away, and she feels nothing for me anymore. I don’t know how she sees me. The space between us may be too far. I am challenged by it, I want to pit my love for her and for my family against the odds stacked against me. 

But I am reminded that this defiance may be my undoing. I am reminded that she wants nothing from me. That my love may evoke nothing but a pathetic sense of pity for me. That it may lessen my standing in her eyes.

I still believe that my family is worth saving. That we can overcome our differences, in the light of how important they are to me. In the light of the small sacrifices I may have to make to keep them, I want, so dearly to try.

But in the end, our destiny lies in the heart of a woman scorned. And I am willing to learn whether my love can overcome her pain and suffering. And win back her respect, and perhaps her love.

Either way, I am not ashamed in committing to the things I want. Even if I stand the fool for doing so, as long as I do nothing to dishonor myself, I should be able to look back at this trial as a period of strength and integrity in my life.



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