Excitement of a new love,
that electrical sense of his nearness
Seeing each other, never tiring
Talking long into the night about everything…about nothing
Hot breath on her neck, his heartbeat beneath her hand,
whispering love words in the darkness, can’t get enough of each other.
Starting their life, later than most, dreaming of their shining future.
long months of denial, anger.
sending a too-young body into decay.
Fighting each day to stay working, to stay normal,
body betraying him and every turn.
The label of DISABLED is too final.
“Come play with me, Daddy” answered with a disheartening,
“I can’t right now, buddy. Daddy hurts.”
Kills to hear it as much as it does to say it.
But the fight becomes futile,
reluctant acceptance of the inevitable.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Multiple doctor, hospitals, opinions
More treatments, trying…waiting
Bottles of pills, line the bathroom counter
Hatred and resentment in each one.
Fear of the outcome, with drugs…or without.
Is the “help” helping…or hurting?
With each passing year of this decade, destruction, of a body and a marriage.
Holding hands in the night is all that is left of their passion.
With each disappointing setback, frustration of a desire denied.
Like remembering a long-lost love that you cannot reclaim,
but are reminded of daily, feeling cheated.
No one understands the dulling side effects of this disease,
the dream ducks behind the clouds of reality.
Trifecta: Week Twenty-Nine Decay: to fall into ruin