emotional with an enemy

A Story by sharma

I had a man with a real problem in my apartment. And i had no idea how I was supposed to deal with him.

Handling people was never my strong point. Getting away from them- that I was good at. But the devil himself would have mercy on this man tonight- he was grieving on his mother's demise.

I tried to be helpful. I offered him food, he refused. I offered him tea, it went untouched. He kept his head low and was continuously was staring at something. Something that would help him from collapsing under the paradigm of nature's rule. He was analyzing, the impact of the loss.

I was partly mad at other people - his friends who should have helped him through this, his family's for not extending the support, but mostly at his stupid driver who left him with me.

Dressed in a black suit is a movie actor who is the heart throb of millions of human beings around the globe but, here tonight, he sits in the couch of his arch enemy looking like he too is in the brink of death - grey and lifeless.

It takes me all my courage to break him from his thoughts. I gently place my hand in his right arm and clear my throat. Sorrow has crushed him, pity would crack him into shards. so I face him expressionless.

He speaks - "You did not come"

This was neither an accusation nor a question. He was just stating the fact. The fact that I was absent at his mother's funeral.

This guy who is always full of energy, who doe snot even think for a moment before showing off his superiority and his celebrity status to me is sitting heartbroken. He is at the dispense of his enemy to be eased of this irreversible event of utmost pain. God - help me with this.

I had several responses to his question. The primary reason being the fear of death itself. I had ruined an entire day on deciding whether to go or not to go. But as we - he and i were never on good terms I thought it would be best if I kept away.

"I was not feeling well" I replied. Which by the way was partly true. PMS had given me a terrorizing weekend.

He takes my hand between his. All this time he has been here - not once has he looked me on the eye. His face though grey has remained emotionless. But with the touch of his hand - I know how he is feeling. His trembling hands tell me the state of his mind.

It didn't take me more than five seconds to hug him. My hand automatically started moving on his back in gentle soothing circles.

He takes a minute or so to acknowledge my reaction. I feel him wrapping his hands tightly around my body.

I want to talk to him, want to ease him by telling him that even God had to die when he was born in human flesh. But I cannot explain. The simple reason being that if situations were reversed I would be doing far worse than he is now.

Loosing a loved one can be equated to loosing a whole section of life.This man who probably had born the life- death situation of his mother had been so tense that he had focused on maintaining a plain facade for the people and had subconsciously been accumulating grief. It occurred to me - had he even cried a little?

On the death of a beloved, the most relief one could get is via releasing the tears. Crying may seem as an option for the weak but the evident fact remains that the actual weak is the one who cannot cry. Even the magical bird Phoenix has to turn itself into ashes to start over a new life. The ashes in the case of human is solely the tears.

He held me tight against himself. His long deep breath makes me worry more. But a sob that escapes from him eases me immensely.

Maybe I could help him.

He is crying silently and I am doing my best to be supportive.

He now starts to sob out and is tears up the silence with a few words every now and then.

How deep is pain?

I was hugging my enemy, feeling bad for the brute. further more i felt i had to keep him safe.

A few moments later ,the tears have gone past and now his hold upon me is gentle. I look at him, his eyes still seem to be laden with sorrow. Good God, I hold his head and place a kiss on his forehead.

He is now laying down on my bed. His eyes wide open staring at a distant point ahead. I stand on the doorway of my own room with a glass of warm milk.

We were always he and I with a bunch of common friends. we were always separate, always contradicting. Yet now there a deep correlation seems to exist. I shake off the thought and enter the room.

He does not make a fuss. Like a good boy he finishes the milk and hands me the glass. He rolls on the side to make space for me.

I analyze a lot of things that happened, that could have happened or that will happen tomorrow. sleep takes over between the thoughts. The deep oblivion is a huge relief.

.......................................

Bell rings at my door. I emerge from under the cover and look at him. In my bed is a man who is still soundly sleeping. One of my hand is clutched by his. I ease out and walk towards the main entrance.

At five am I have someone at my door. Who could it be? I really didn't know.

I open the door. And on the other side of the threshold stood the ex of the guy who is sleeping on my bed.

Yesterday was a long exhausting day. Today will not be any better. I fake a smile and welcome her in.

................................................................................................

© 2015 sharma

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Coyote Poetry

A very good story. I like the honest tone and feel of the situation. Sometime hard to be kind. But we must. I like the kindness shared and the good closing. Thank you for sharing the outstanding story. You allowed the reader in and I understood the situation.
Coyote