I immediately could hear the change in his voice, a coldness and hardness had crept in, along with a trace of contempt . I still loved him, but there was no reaching him now, no convincing him of that, and I knew he would be better off if he believed I never did. I wanted to explain why I ended it, why everything was turning to ashes, and the smoke still stinging our eyes. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, I knew it was going to hurt since we had planned to start a new chapter in our story, together.
And then I abruptly yanked that dream away.
But it wasn’t an abrupt decision at all. It had been brewing underneath for months and all that was left was my admitting I could not go through with it and that I didn’t believe that he could either. And he needed to understand why this fork in the road (us being together) seemed a wrong turn, and would get both of us lost in the end.
But he wanted to hear no reasons, he saw me in the worst possible light, and had made up his own reasons for what I did and why, and was closed off to hearing any of mine. He kept talking at me, not to me, and all I could do was keep myself from not hanging up; it was a hard thing to steel yourself to listen to this litany of faults, some real, some imaginary.
At last I got a break in the conversation and geared myself to tell him all those things I needed to say, all those buried thoughts and feelings that made sleep so rare these days. I opened my mouth, hoping the words would come, needing them to be obedient and brave, and not run off to hide. I felt I owed him an explanation; to be honest, as well as I could without hurting him further, so he would at least somewhat understand it was not an easy decision, taken lightly. That I was in pain, too. And then he told me he had to go buy a wheelbarrow for his old one broke and that he had to go. I closed my mouth by saying "goodbye".
I held the phone, no one on the other side now, and cried so hard there were no tears left inside. After I was done, I visualized in my mind that shiny new wheelbarrow (green in my imagination) and loaded it up with all those reasons why it fell apart, and all those feelings that weighed me down. I walked to a tree with a twisted trunk and gnarled limbs and in my mind dug a hole under it. I took the wheelbarrow and tipped it over into the hole. All those intertwined reasons and stark, raw emotions of love and loss came spilling out and landed in the dirt. I took my shovel and covered them, knowing they would most probably never see sunlight again, and shouldn’t now, because any reasons or feelings were moot. It was over and best to let it lie.
I was grateful for that new wheelbarrow, for it came in handy that day.
