It is absolutely the worst, most terrorizing part of this whole nightmare, that I can't speak to her. I can't hold her hand, look into her beautiful brown eyes and tell her the three magic words.
I am sorry.
I feel in my heart, such a cold terror, a fear, a tingling tearing pain about my mistake. I did the wrong thing and caused a cavalcade of misery and issues and problems and things falling horribly apart.
I never made a decision. I never had a thought. I saw it happen as it occurred and I instantly, immediately, all-encompassingly knew it was wrong and regretted it. It terrified me. It made me feel miserable, embarrassed, ashamed, idiotic, stupid, mean, nasty... and by simply thinking about it, I feel nauseous.
I did the wrong thing. I made a mistake.
I will be in the middle of my day, at work, walking to a meeting, or coming back from lunch, and a pain will strike me like lightning. It makes my whole face and chest hot, sends electric chills down my spine. My head swims, my ear ring and in my head is only screaming. My own screams, at top volume, directly into my synapses. My eyes open wide but my vision blacks out. I stop walking, I clutch the wall and wince from the attack. My knees buckle and my skin feels singed. All the power and energy in my body is being sucked out as if through my stomach. All my senses are physically being attacked. By my emotions. By my regret. My body is turning on itself. My immense volume of shame and pain is too overwhelming to continue to push down, and it overwhelms me.
These attacks can last 5 seconds in the middle of the day. If you stop and count out loud, you see how long that really is. I'll wait for you. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. It must be absurd to watch as a guy is walking past some cubicals and it looks like he was shot with a harpoon in his chest. At night they triple. Quadruple. They can last 10 minutes. 30. All day everyday they come in waves, sometimes very often, sometimes only every hour or two. They havent gotten better, lighter, or less frequent. They are unrelenting and wicked. They feel like pure evil.
This is how my body reacts. I'm choking down the hurt, holding in the shame, the embarrassment every single second of every day as I try to go on about my life. This is what happens when I have physical and mental muscle fatigue and I can't hold back the sorrow, the misery, the disgrace. I hate myself. I despise that I get to walk around in the world. Finally that pain pushes too hard, and I can't fight it off any longer. The attacks leave me breathless, teary. Embarrassed. Sick.
I made an unforgivable mistake and I refuse to let myself off the hook. I wont make excuses. I wont accept any. I'm unlikely to soften this stance. I am a miserable twit and am mortified at what I've done.
I've had an instant of recklessness and will punish myself for a lifetime because of it. There will be no healing process. I will never forget this, I will always live with it. Its pain and the terrible domino effect it had on my life.
And I haven't been able to say any of this to my wife. I haven't been able to IM her, text her, send smoke signals, or telegraph, much less do what I really honestly, with all of my heart want to do....
I want to walk up to her slowly. Take her hand gently into mine, making sure her sweet, soft pinky is not separate, rather inside my hand where it is safe. I'll put my other hand slowly, gently on her small, delicate shoulder. I'll softly glide it across to the nape of her neck, dragging the backs of my fingers up her neck, to cup the back of her head. I'll move my head towards hers and place the most tender of kisses on the side of her right temple. Then, I'll pull my head back, look deeply into her amazing almond-shaped eyes. I'll gaze past them, into her. I'll look directly at her soul and I'll tell her...
Baby, I'm sorry.
No comments:
Post a Comment