"Loneliness -- this awful emptiness -- how can anyone go on feeling
like this?" She deliberated as she mindlessly sorted the endless
array of shirts, jeans, underwear, towels and washcloths.
"I can't keep living this way -- I just can't! I'm so bored, and
I can't stand it any longer!" She stifled a sob that seemed to be
welling up in her throat. It was just too much to bear. She was
nearing 35 and life was at a point where soon she would not be as
attractive as she once had been. Was she thinking of physically or
sexually attractive? Her brain felt muddled.
"Just live one day at a time -- just one day at a time -- you'll
live through this, you know you will!" She had told herself the
same thing many times before. Now she could have been talking in
a foreign language for all the sense it made.
"I want some excitement before my life settles down to a dull and
endless routine! I've never 'sewn my wild oats,' so to speak. I
should be entitled to something different in this existence!" She
sighed, closed her eyes and leaned forward on her elbows. The
washer began its washing cycle once again and the pleasant
'swish-swish, swish-swish' seemed to form a rhythm in her head.
"Imagine me at a disco! Wouldn't I look silly? Out-of-style
clothing and hairdo -- how funny!" She laughed out loud, but then
realized it sounded more like a cry than a laugh.
"Now if I were to get some different clothes, lose ten pounds, fix
my hair and put on some makeup, I could show those young girls a
thing or two! I used to be a pretty good dancer...I think I could
catch on fast to disco dancing...oh crud! Who am I kidding? I'm
so ugly no one would look the second time, let alone the first!"
She looked down and grimaced in disgust at her body. It wasn't the
body she'd had in her teens and early twenties. Fifteen plus years
and several children had made her shape quite obnoxious.
"I'm shaped like a gourd -- no top, all bottom! Some prize for
anybody!" Suddenly she felt she had to get away from her doldrum
existence or suffocate.
"Screw the soap operas today! I'm going to town! I need some
groceries anyway!" She was determined to get at least one decent
glance from some gentleman, so she hurried to the bathroom,
scrutinized her face, decided it might be worthwhile and put on
some makeup -- something she hadn't had time (or the inclination)
to do for several years.
After she'd fixed her hair and face and splashed some of her
favorite gentle perfume on her arms and neck, she looked again.
"Not bad, I guess, for an old lady!" She changed her clothes.
This was going to be the day to make it or break it -- one way or
the other! Either she was desirable or she wasn't to someone else
besides her husband. He loved her very much, she knew, but this
was different. She had to do something to prove to herself that
she wasn't an old, ugly broad with no hopes for an exciting life
--and she wanted to make up her own mind for a change. First her
parents had made her decisions for her, then she got married and
her husband did most of the deciding. It was her turn now. If she
wanted to be someone sexy and exciting or someone dull and boring,
at least it should be her choice, whatever life style she wanted.
She called her neighbor and asked her to watch the kids after
school, until her husband got home from work. Then she left a note
for him to tell him that she'd be late.
As she walked out the front door she felt like a different person.
She walked briskly and held herself proudly erect. She got into
her car and took off, not even knowing where she was going.
She drove for several minutes, not thinking about anything.
Strangely, her mind felt at peace and there was no need to think
for a little while. Then she noticed a bar she'd passed many times
and had often wished she'd had the courage to go inside. She
rolled her window down for a closer inspection. It was open, so
she slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel around. The brakes
squealed as she forced her car and herself to stop in front of the
bar.
She hadn't noticed the police car coming toward her when she
swerved into the parking lot. She didn't notice it as it pulled up
close to her car, lights flashing. She still hadn't noticed it
when the tall, lanky policeman wearing dark glasses got out and
started toward her. She was just staring at the bar's entrance in
front of her.
The policeman stood by her car door for a few moments, watching
her.
"Are you all right, miss? Is something wrong?" he asked, ever so
gently and softly.
Startled, she jumped and gasped, turned, wide-eyed, and finally
realized there was a policeman standing there.
"Oh, I...uh..." her trembling fingers went to her mouth as tears
smarted in her eyes. She dropped her eyes, turned her head and
looked down at her legs, biting her lip and finger to keep those
tears back.
The policeman frowned, realized this woman was in quite a bit of
emotional turmoil, and decided to wait for her to make the next
move. He took off his dark glasses and waited for a few moments as
she regained her composure.
Blinking several times, she lifted her eyes to his face, swallowing
hard, then noticed that this policeman had the most sexy eyes and
nose and mouth that she'd ever seen. She raised an eyebrow as she
marveled at that face and felt a burning, tingling sensation
running up and down her spine which spread all over her body. She
felt as if she were going to faint. Her eyes fluttered and her
lips parted slightly as she turned her head away from that
magnificent sight. Her breath seemed to be caught somewhere
between her lungs and her throat.
Thinking she was going to faint, the officer jerked her door open
and pulled her around to face him. She could see concern visibly
encompassing his handsome face as she gasped for air, fighting the
tears.
"I'm all right...I think..." she whispered, still fighting for her
breath. She felt the warmth of his hands on her arms, his fingers
pressing into her flesh, deeper and deeper. It seemed as if he
could feel his way into her very soul.
"You were behaving rather erratically," he commented. "Why? Do you
have a medical problem?"
"No...just...I've got some temporary problems I need to resolve,"
she said meekly, figuring he would write her a ticket for reckless
driving.
She looked at his handsome face and felt her whole being drawn into
those beautiful brown eyes -- so dark they looked black --
reminding her of her emptiness and that darkness, which seemed to
be engulfing her whole self, consuming her.
There was no need for further vocal communication. He could read
the message from her eyes and the movements of her body. He, too,
was lonely, aching for companionship, for a friend with whom he
could talk, for someone who could comprehend his feelings. Since
his wife had been killed almost two years before in a car wreck, he
had decided to just devote his life to his career and never let
emotions 'get in the way' again. However, this lady had just
snatched his attention. She seemed so helpless and lost, and he
knew how it felt to be helpless and lost. He'd been lost for
months after his wife's death. He'd felt helpless, too. She'd
been run over by a hit-and-run drunk driver, according to one
witness who'd seen the man swerving in the road. No license
number, no car description complete enough for an arrest, so the
man escaped justice. Now he felt an overwhelming urge to talk with
this attractive lady.
"Would a cup of coffee help calm your jitters, ma'am?"
She nodded her head, not realizing the commitment she was about to
enter. He helped her out of her car and into his police car. Then
he called in for a lunch break, which was acknowledged. As he
drove to his favorite spot, a quiet nearby restaurant he'd found,
he looked at her several times, glancing sideways every so often.
Neither of them knew what to say, so he drove in silence and she
sat with her head down, eyes closed, wondering what in the world
she was doing in this predicament.
They entered the café together, and he ordered some coffee 'for
starters.'
"You want to talk about it?" he inquired softly.
"I can't even understand -- how could you?" She peered into those
eyes and was once more lost in their depths.
"I understand better than you think," the softness of his voice
made a teardrop trickle down each of her cheeks. He looked at her,
traced her mouth, nose and hair with his eyes, then rested them in
her dark blue, fathomless orbs.
"I know this is going to sound crazy -- but I feel like I've known
you for a lifetime -- and since I didn't ask for your driver's
license, I don't even know your name," he whispered.
She knew he wasn't trying to 'make time' or hand her a line -- his
eyes were honest and the light from them was so intense!
She closed hers -- how could she tell him she felt the same way?
It was like small electrical impulses were racing between them,
instantly engulfing them and making their spirits as one -- each
knowing and caring for the other and needing the other to live.
The intensity! It was powerful!
She had never felt this way before. She stood up and started to
leave when he touched her hand. A bolt of electricity raced up her
arm and danced around in her head.
"Please don't go..." The hurt radiated from him and she felt
compassion beyond anything she'd ever felt. Those eyes! They were
hypnotizing! She couldn't move away -- she had to sit back down.
So they sat, looking into each other's souls as they sipped their
coffee.
"I've never felt like a magnet before," she quipped. He looked
shocked for an instant.
"I thought I was the only one feeling a power between us, drawing
us closer and closer. Is it possible that anyone could feel this
way? I can't believe it...and yet it's happening to me...but
nothing like this has ever happened to me before, either...I...this
is unreal!"
She put her hand to her lips as the breathlessness again fought to
overtake her. As she did, he noticed her wedding band. His eyes
met hers and then he looked down at the table top.
"I guess I didn't notice your ring before. I'm sorry," he
murmured. He looked like a little boy sitting there, waiting for
a spanking because he'd done something wrong. Her motherly
instincts instantly arose.
"It's okay, really. I'm divorced. I just wear this ring to ward
off all the weirdos!" Oh, no! She wondered how she could have
blurted out such a thing! That wasn't the truth at all! She
blushed as she felt compelled to tell him the truth. The tears
started to trickle down her cheeks again.
"You're going to think I'm awful, but I'm not really divorced
yet..." Oh gads! That was even worse, she thought. Why had she
said 'yet?'
"I'm not very happy in my marriage, and I'm thinking very seriously
about a divorce -- can you understand all this?"
He studied her facial expressions intently. He knew she was one
messed-up lady and something told him to excuse himself and get
away as fast as he could. Something stronger riveted him to the
chair. Her eyes caught his and he was again fascinated by her
innocent demeanor.
"I do understand. It's okay," he said as he leaned over and
grasped her hand in his. "Are you all right now?"
"No, I'm not! I want to be..." How could she tell him that she
wanted to be younger and dance and enjoy the years that she hadn't
enjoyed? How could she tell him that she wanted to love and be
loved fiercely and passionately and enjoy every second of what life
she had left? How could she tell him all these things and also
tell him how warm his hand felt, holding hers? He was a stranger!
Still, he didn't feel like a stranger to her. She felt so very
comfortable with him, as if she had known him for such a long,
long, time.
He looked at her lips. They were slightly pouted and above them,
her pert little nose flared ever so gently with each breath. He
had been 'around' and thought he knew all the types of women there
were. This one was different. She was special. He wanted to know
more about her and wanted to be with her longer, but he knew he
couldn't right then. His time was limited while he was on duty.
"Listen, I've got to get back to work -- how about a dinner with
me, or a drink? I promise I won't make any advances or try to
seduce you...I would just like to get to know you better...all
right?" He felt as if he were babbling like an idiot.
How could she dare? She hesitated for only a moment and then
impulsively uttered, "Yes, a drink...whenever you can. You tell me
what time and place and I'll meet you."
"Tonight at 7:30 p.m. I'll meet you here, at this restaurant, then
I'll take you in my car to my favorite lounge!" His eyes were
bright and mischievous. She felt like a little girl who, having
accidentally found the key, was about to unlock and enter the
forbidden room.
"Okay," she whispered.
As he got up to leave, he smiled at her, put on his dark glasses,
and pulled his hat down over his forehead. She felt breathless
again. How handsome he was!
He helped her get up and then held her arm on the way out to his
car. She was very glad because she felt very shaky. They left the
restaurant and without speaking, drove back to her car. She
quickly exited his vehicle, and as she jumped into hers, he loudly
exclaimed, "See ya tonight!" He smiled again, waved and left.
She sat there, stupefied and petrified at what she had just agreed
to do. She was a married woman, meeting an unknown man and going
to an unknown place and no one else could ever know! How
dangerous!
"But I want to and I will," she murmured as a smile playfully
teased her lips.
She made it back to the car and then back to her home, oblivious to
everything going on around her. As she pulled into the driveway,
she wondered how she had managed to get there.
Her husband opened the door to greet her, put his arms around her
and gave her a peck on the cheek. She didn't want a kiss. She
didn't even want a hug. She wanted to get back out of the house
immediately. Her husband let go of her and then took a second
look.
"Gees, hon," he exclaimed, "you sure look good!"
She grimaced at his receding hairline, his bald spot and the pouch
he had for a belly. She felt revulsion and was glad he couldn't
read her mind. He was good enough to her, but handsome he was not.
In the past several years he had slowly become a fat, balding slob.
The policeman seemed more and more desirable each passing moment.
"Well, I'm going back out with some friends in a few minutes. I'll
probably be back in a couple hours," she said as she hurried into
the bathroom. She had to get away from him before she said or did
something to arouse any suspicion.
She really wanted to tell him that she was changing her image and
that she might never come home, but she couldn't tell him anything.
She peered into the mirror and saw a frightened person standing
there, staring back. What was she doing? Could she really go back
and meet her 'secret friend?' Her expression changed from
frightened to determined.
"I've dreamed of something wild and exciting and now my chance has
come! I need to grab hold of a dream I've had for a long, long
time and enjoy myself! I'm going to do it!" With a giggle, she
blew a kiss toward her reflection and hurried to the front door.
Her husband was sitting in front of the TV and as usual, was
watching the sports and drinking a beer.
"More for the belly," she muttered under her breath. She opened
the door, told him again that she was going out with the girls and
before he could get out of the chair, she waved goodbye and blew a
kiss to him. She wondered as she hurried to the car if she had
indeed waved goodbye for the last time to her tedious life and was
now looking forward to an exciting new adventure. With little
thought for husband or for children or for anything else, she drove
to her rendezvous.
She emerged from her car feeling like a total woman, fulfilled by
life. "If this is what love is, may it never pass from me again!"
she thought. She sat down at 'their' table. It was almost time.
She began to wonder if her policeman would really meet her or if it
had all been her imagination. The more she thought, the more
frightened and confused she felt.
"What am I doing? I could lose my home and husband and kids and
everything! Here goes my security, my self-respect...gees, what is
the matter with me, anyhow? So I'm getting older, so what?
Everybody else is, too! Crape! I've got to get out of here before
he comes...if he comes..oh, why do I want to see him again?" She
couldn't forget those piercing brown eyes and those sensual lips
that curled upward at the corners ever so slightly. She wanted to
feel those lips on her own. She wanted to feel breathless and
excited. She wanted to see the fireworks in her head that she had
always imagined would be there with a true, passionate and
fulfilled love.
"What am I thinking? I can't do this! I gotta get out of here!"
She grabbed her purse, but in her haste she dropped it and the
contents scattered. Quickly she started picking up the numerous
items. Just as she picked up her comb, seemingly the last item,
she felt a hand on her shoulder. The tingling started from that
spot, spread down her back and then over her whole body. She felt
as if she were on fire.
"I thought maybe you wouldn't come, but I was sure hoping you'd be
here," his voice sounded so gentle. She started quivering.
"You're shaking!" he exclaimed as she looked up into those brown
eyes with those long, dark lashes. His black, wavy hair looked so
neat and he smelled so good! She close her eyes and wondered what
to do next.
"Are you hungry?" She had looked so vulnerable. He hoped that a
meal would alleviate the fear he'd seen in her eyes.
"I can't do this, I really can't," she murmured.
"Can't do what? Have a cup of coffee and talk?" He was looking
directly at her. He felt a weakness in his legs and his breath was
shallow and rapid. He looked at this beautiful lady and wanted
desperately to at least be a friend and confidant. He really
wanted to be her lover, too, and he knew he'd be ready when and if
she would ever be. However, he could feel her confusion and
thought he should try to ease her burdened mind for now. As he
tried to speak, there seemed to be something caught in his throat.
"Listen, it's all right. We'll do it another time, okay? I really
want to be your friend...I don't want you to be frightened. Why
don't you go on home and decide what you really want out of life.
I'll give you my phone numbers for home and for work. You can call
anytime, all right?"
She watched as he swallowed hard, and as he bowed his head to avert
his eyes, she realized he had given her a way out of this mess.
"Please...I...I'll take your phone numbers. I might be calling
you. I don't know right now. I really need some time alone to
think," she watched as he wrote down the numbers. His warm hand
touched hers as he gave her the paper. She noticed that he looked
hopeful for an instant, then he frowned and clenched his jaw.
"Here," he scoffed, "they might come in handy someday."
"Thanks." She didn't know what else to say.
He turned quickly so she wouldn't see the hurt in his eyes. His
heart felt as if it were being ripped apart, and he didn't know
why. Without looking back at her, he got into his car and drove
away.
She watched as he left. Now it was her turn to swallow hard.
There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away. The tears
threatened her makeup again.
"Guess I'd better go home," she whispered to herself. She got into
her car and was heading home when the bar where she'd met her
policeman caught her attention again. The lights were flashing and
she could hear the music. They were playing one of her favorite
songs. There was a couple of fairly good-looking guys standing by
the doorway.
She felt the urge to prove that she was desirable and worthy of
attention once more. She decided to stop and have just a couple of
drinks and a couple of dances.
"Maybe no one will ask me to dance...wouldn't that be a lark!" she
mused as she locked up her car. She walked up to the doorway. The
bouncer casually looked up at her.
"Are you going to ask for my ID?" she joked.
"Sure, why not?" he smiled back at her, looking somewhat interested
in the fact that she was alone. "Expecting company?" he asked.
"Maybe," she bantered. "Right now I just want to have a couple of
drinks and maybe dance some."
"Well, go on and have fun," he laughed and grinned. "You shouldn't
have any trouble attracting a dance partner or two." His comment
made her feel more confident and gave her the courage to go inside.
It was dark, but she felt like she was walking in a spotlight and
everyone could see her every move. She made her way up to the bar,
sat down and ordered a vodka collins. She didn't want to be
considered a 'lady of the evening,' so she kept her eyes cast
downward and tried not to look around at anyone.
She drank her vodka collins as fast as she dared. She could feel
someone looking her over, sizing her up. She looked toward the
mirror in front of her and saw several men watching her. The music
was very loud and she started wondering if she really wanted to
stay, have another drink and try to dance or just go on home.
A dark-haired, cowboy type sidled close to her. He began glancing
at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn't think he was too
bad looking, so she shyly sneaked a peek. He grinned. She looked
down and then back up rather bashfully. He smiled broadly, showing
a set of cigarette-stained teeth.
"You want another drink, ma'am?" he asked boldly.
"Well, I was going to have at least two, so I guess..." her voice
trailed off uncertainly.
"Set 'em up for me and the little lady here," he ordered the
bartender. When she got it, she drank it down quicker than she had
the first one. She started to feel the slight buzzing sensation of
a pleasantly clouded perspective. It felt good to have a couple of
drinks again. It had been a long time since she had been out with
her husband, and neither of them really drank hard liquor. She
didn't like beer, and had never wanted to become an alcoholic, so
she just stayed away from temptation. The first time she'd had a
vodka collins scared her. She figured she liked the stuff much too
much, and it would be easy for her to regularly imbibe, so not
drinking was easier. Now she felt her inhibitions sliding and she
was beginning to feel free and almost wild.
The cowboy invited her to dance. When they started swinging with
the music, she found him to be a pretty good dancer, even to disco-type
music. She hadn't been on a dance floor in years, but she
began to get the rhythm. Relaxed as she was, she began to feel
groovy with the music and she really began to dance. She felt
graceful and sexy and she noticed a lot of men looking at her. The
thought flashed through her mind that if she continued to dance
like this, that ten pounds she wanted to lose would come off rather
quickly.
The dance was over too soon. A fast 'thank you' and she was off to
the bar, alone, and ready for another drink. The interest had been
sparked by her fervent performance and she had many more
invitations by many different men. She felt higher than she had
ever felt before. After several more drinks, and many more dances,
she felt like the most wanted, gorgeous woman in the world. Men
kept coming for more dances and more offers for more drinks. She
didn't really want to settle down with any one of them. None of
them really attracted her inner self. She was beginning to get a
little tired, so she started saying no for a few dances and
concentrated on a few more lonely drinks.
As she sipped her vodka, she continued to brush off the drunks and
the men with whom she didn't really feel like dancing. She began
to wonder if this was such a good life after all. She became very
maudlin with thoughts of her policeman, wishing he were there and
then being glad he wasn't. She wouldn't want him to see her like
this. She began to wonder if she could ever make up her mind
whether or not to call him, whether or not to go back home or
whether or not to take up an invitation from one of the more
handsome men to go to a different place.
As she finished one more glass of liquor, she decided that this
wasn't such a good place to be. It suddenly didn't matter that
this was the 'exciting life.' She didn't feel any excitement any
more.
"What's wrong with me? Why don't I feel good, like I thought this
would make me feel? I got the men, I got the attention -- what's
wrong with me?" She watched the drunks as they made their way to
and from the bathrooms. It seemed as if all their little worlds
consisted of was a table, booze and a place to go to get rid of the
booze.
"What a miserable existence," she sighed. "What is my existence?
I can stay here and drink and dance or I can go home and watch TV.
If I go home everything else goes with it -- the cooking, washing,
cleaning, scrubbing -- just so somebody can make it dirty again so
I can clean it up again! What a dull, repetitious and never-ending
rut! Is there nothing to enjoy? Am I doomed to be a drudge
forever and ever? I can't go on like this...I just can't! What
have I got to look forward to?"
"Here I can get drunk, go to the bathroom, get sick, throw up,
smell the rotten stale cigarette smoke...another rut! Now I
suppose I'll wake up in the morning with an awful hangover...oh
crape! I can just imagine morning! What is the worth of living
anyway? What is happiness and enjoyment? I don't think I've ever
been happy or enjoyed anything! What's wrong with me?"
Her head was really beginning to hurt and the loud music pounded
each note a little deeper into her skull. The noxious smell of
cheap perfume, booze, cigarette, perspiration and vomit was making
her feel very queasy. This was definitely not what she wanted out
of life!
She thought of her husband at home with the kids and all the work
there. That was not appealing, either. Then she thought of her
policeman. She wondered what he was doing now. He did make her
feel something, that was for sure -- but she wondered in her
present condition how long that would last -- a year or two? Six
months? One night?
"What am I? Who am I? Why am I going through all this?" She got
up from the table and staggered to the door, trying to avoid the
questioning eyes and searching hands of all those men. They wanted
her to dance some more and have some more drinks. She decided she
didn't like drunk men very much at all.
Somehow she managed to make it to the door and make a break for
freedom and fresh air. The wind playfully tugged at her hair and
blouse. She began to feel a little better.
She fumbled for the keys in her purse as she neared her car. As
she pulled them out, she began to feel uneasy. She felt as though
someone or something were lurking in the shadows, spying on her,
waiting for her to make a wrong move.
She looked around carefully but saw no one and no movement. She
breathed in deeply and let out a big sigh. "Fool, there's no one
around. You've been watching too many scary movies."
She unlocked the door and as she started to open it, a hand grabbed
her arm, roughly digging the nails into her flesh. She felt a
scream began to escape from her lips, but before it could free
itself, an arm made its way around her neck, shutting off her
breath. She was so frightened she could not move. A low voice
growled in her ear.
"Don't fight me, baby. You came on strong in there and I intend to
finish our little dance now." She started to struggle, but the arm
tightened even more, so she stopped. Her throat hurt really badly
and pressure was building up in her chest. She thought she would
explode as a merciful darkness overtook her.
Her policeman could not stop thinking about her. He had been
driving aimlessly. He wondered where she was, what she was doing
and if she would decide to call him. He wondered if she might not
have gone back to that bar she had so recklessly driven into
earlier. He had no particular place to go, so he decided to check
out the night life.
He was just pulling into the parking lot when he thought he saw
some movement. He slowed. Perceiving some difficulty between a
man and a woman, he stopped, hurried over to a nearby telephone and
called in for help. Just as he finished giving the bar's address,
he saw a flash of light. Looking intently, he realized it was a
knife glistening in the flashing neon lights as the man was
stabbing at the woman. He jerked the telephone booth door open and
began to run toward the assailant and the victim. Both of them had
dropped to the ground, scuffling.
The man obviously heard the clicking of the policeman's footsteps.
He turned and for one moment, with bloody knife blade hovering high
in the air, looked as if he were a deranged maniac. The policeman
grabbed the arm with the knife in hand, jerked it downward over his
thigh and heard the cracking of the bone as the knife fell to the
ground. The man stopped struggling and started screaming that his
arm was broken. A few people had gathered around and one of them
kicked the knife farther away from the attacker.
The policeman, realizing the man was in no shape to get away for a
few minutes, took time to glance at the victim. That sight took
his breath away. It was his woman -- the one he would have called
friend -- the one with whom he felt so close. She was lying on her
side in a near-fetal position, her hand grasping for someone,
anyone. Tears welled in his eyes as he fell to his knees by her
side and took her hand in both of his. She looked up, and in agony
and futility, she tried to breathe as her lungs began to collapse
from the numerous stab wounds.
Her eyes began to clear. She realized she was looking into the
beautiful brown eyes of her policeman. The tingling sensation
began to spread throughout her body in spite of the excruciating,
painful wounds. She longed for a second chance -- if nothing else,
for a friendship. She knew the feeling she felt with him would
never leave her. She watched as the tears made rivulets down his
cheeks and then she tried to smile as she gazed at those sensuous
lips.
She formed the words "I love you," with a raspy, breathless voice.
In mute agreement, he nodded his head. He waited, feeling
helpless. Deep inside he felt the need to have known this
beautiful woman and wished he could have had more time, too.
They looked deep into each other's eyes, knowing each other's pain,
loving each other, desperately hoping that this would not be the
end of all things. They both knew that only once in a lifetime
could they have found such a feeling so deep inside both of them.
However, he knew from experience that with the far-away look in her
eyes, she couldn't possibly live much longer. He bit his lip and
mustered up more courage than he'd ever had to in his life just so
he could speak.
"I hope you believe that some things can last forever -- that we
can somehow, someday be together again...some place..."
She closed her eyes, nodded her head in a slow, slightly upward and
downward motion. She smiled at the thought of being with her
policeman again someday. A peaceful feeling permeated her body and
the merciless pain seemed to disappear. She felt a love beyond her
comprehension, and that love made her feel radiant. She reached up
with her free arm, gave her policeman a soft caress, and with a
gentle sigh, stopped breathing.
When he realized that her spirit had left her body, he felt the
pain of that loss to his very soul. A moan escaped from him as he
bowed his head in grief.
"Not again...not again...how can this be...I loved, I love, I lose
my love...I can't take any more. I just can't take any more,"
he whispered ever so softly as he started to feel all of his
strength and energy dissipate.
As sobs wrenched his body, a warmth began to invade his pain,
soothing it, and a gentle breeze caressed his cheek. He could
almost see the glow surrounding him. It seemed as if energy began
to flow back into the void that had started to overwhelm him. He
felt her presence. She was there, all around him -- she was with
him at that instant! Then he realized that life goes on, even
after death.
He gathered up his courage, stood up and decided to finish up with
his life until his time was completed here, on this earth. He
would do the best he could do for whatever time he had left. A
peaceful calm settled in his soul and he knew, without a doubt,
that she would wait for him to join her and that she would be with
him forever.