Tonight I was asked
mardi, le 02 février 2010
How did it came about that you live in a city you so easily declare you don’t care for much?
Easy, said I.
On a Friday night, with lightning dancing on the sea that lapped the shores of the city I adored, we sat cross-legged on the balcony of my apartment. I told, the yet again unemployed L’homme, that the long-suffering company I work for, has offered me a substantial increase to move to a city I didn’t care for much. I voiced my my reservations. I knew the city they wanted me to move to. I had lived there before, I didn’t like it then. I couldn’t imagine that I would now.
Without skipping a beat, blinking an eye, or even taking a sip of wine, L’homme wrapped me in his convincing arms: ‘I’m your Ruth. For whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.’
I melted in the euphoric embrace of L’homme’s lie. I was comforted by the warm kisses of his deceit. I was swept away by my innocent belief. In that single moment I burnt all that was dear to me on the altar of us.
For us I phoned the removal company. For us I moved. For I was committed to us. But before the removal company arrived in the city we now called home, L'homme became Ruth to the bars, Ruth to the wine. He was where he wanted to be. He no longer needed to lodge where I lodged.
Tonight I walked to my car in the pouring rain. I defiantly raised my face to the lightning dancing in the sky. I allowed the warm kisses of the raindrops to play on my cheeks. I allowed them to disguise my maloncholy. I allowed them to give me strength.
Back home I wonder whether L’homme still has a Lamb to care for and a job to go to. Should I care? I think not. C’est la vie.
(Some music musings: I’ve never denied my devotion to his music, but I recently acknowledged my infatuation with the man who closes some of his concerts with wither thou goest.)
(The story in the photograph: I stole the photograph. I admit it. But it was that exact lightning playing on that exact sea, that night I thought that all was as it was meant to be.)
Posted by Rispa Frances at 02:15