Intimate: a true story

Do you have the blues?  She asked.

I was laying close to her in bed.  A hand on her breast.  (incidental contact).  An arm wrapped around her hips, but Tearful.  Distant.       

The television was on and I was thinking about the stress of Christmas and money and the F word (previous blog-11/22).  It was 5:45.  There was a blue tint of light coming from the television casting itself over everything in my darkened room.  She was checking her Facebook but stopped and looked at my blue face.

You know I love you, she said, like a question.  I didn't really know.  This is the way it had been since it happened.

(I couldn't talk).    

It was unusual for her to be here now.  Like this.  With Me.

 The way I saw it, there was the Blues and there was the dread.  I had grown used to doing the blues alone.  But being alone had introduced me to the dread. And there was only one way out of the dread.   The blues let me feel it like a reminder that I was still alive.  But the dread made me feel it like I was dead.

Your face looks blue she said.      

The colors from the television changed with it's own movement.  From darker blue to light blue.  And then darker..., back to light.  I was tired of feeling it.  Worn out and tired and silently to myself I asked someone to Please help me.  And the F word came to my mind again.  The other one.  Not the angry one.  

And then just like that, underneath the revolving blue tones an answer came to me like an unusual gift.... Suddenly a door unlocked and I was permitted to Forgive.

And so I did.

And though the dread had me losing my self entirely; surprisingly it felt like I was dead for just a moment.  It felt like at the beginning of things when you're dead, but suddenly coming back to life.

The television changed to a brighter screen and she looked at me curiously, not knowing my secret inside life.  You're getting lighter she said.  Your getting lighter and lighter.  It looks like you're almost white.