Where have you been?

He arrives at the party later than he had planned. Having been held up in the office; well that is what everyone else will think. In truth he had sat in his desk chair and stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds, the minutes, the hour pass by. It is not that he does not want to enjoy the party or to celebrate their friends’ anniversary, but his thoughts just kept creeping in and getting into the way.

 

Walking through the room, he sees them, in the front of the room, laughing and talking with guests. It is a scene from their wedding twenty years ago. Sure they look more modern today, carrying a bit more weight around the middle, but it fits, it suits. They look happy. They laugh and smile at each other. His hand is resting on her hip and his eyes still hold a sparkle.

 

Shaking his head and taking a beer from the nearby bar, he pauses and looks around at the crowd. Many faces he knows and just as many he does not. He continues to scan the crowd and then he sees her. She is talking with someone he does not recognize. Maybe a friend from work, or their daughters school, or someone she knows and has spoken about; he is not sure. Maybe a stranger; someone else there alone.

 

Pausing to draw from the beer, an astounding thought occurs to him, maybe she is a stranger too. Is it possible to share a life with someone and suddenly realize that you do not know them at all? Is it possible to realize that at a certain point you hardly recognize you?

 

Sure he sees her everyday. They share a house and have a lovely child, whom they cherish. There are so many lovely memories in common, vacations, family reunions, and the birth of their daughter. So many firsts: the first time they kissed, made love, fought about something trivial, something important. Memories of their first apartment, their first house, the first time they took a road trip. The first time they lay together under the stars and planned a life.

 

Funny, could they have planned this? Who would have imagined the daily quiet estrangement, no discontent, no unhappiness; but just silence. Where there was once a symphony, now there was a deafening silence. No words, nothing to talk about. It was more or less a military exercise rather than a love affair. It was about the who, where and when and how. Who would get this? Who would go where, when would you like this, what can we work into the schedule? There was no discussion of why. There was no feeling; it was just a plan: very sterile, very necessary, very benign, very plain and very polite.

 

Scowling, he drew on the beer and thought – my life as a day planner.  Shaking his head he gazed out over the crowd again, he heard the guests of honor talking and laughing. He caught her gazing at her husband with something that resembled love. Long ago that was important to him. The power of one woman’s gaze. The look in her eyes after they had made love. The look she would give him, when she thought no one was looking. He has not seen that look in a long time. Funny he had not noticed it as it was happening, but at some point it was just simply gone.

 

Finishing the beer he headed outside. He decided he needs the air. What would happen if he simply left the party now? Would anyone notice? No one had seen or acknowledged him yet.

 

Sometime he wonders, what would happen if he just went away. Would anyone notice? Well someone would notice and she was important, but she was not the someone that really matters or was she?

She was a joy, full of light; eager to soak up the love that abounds. She was really the reason they were still standing together. Or at least it felt that way some days. She needed them both. But was it fair to sink like an anchor, day after day? For how long would that chain hold up, how long before the rope frayed?

 

Walking further out onto the terrace, he wondered again, just how had he come to this? Why did this creep into his mind? Sometimes it was when he saw lovers walking along the street. Sometimes it was an old photograph, the colors slightly muted, the expressions hazy, faded by time. That is how it felt most days, the feeling were there but muted. Could they be warmed up, reinvented or was it time to make a change; a change that might be for the better or might really be worse. Was it better to be neutrally numb, but in a place he knew and understood or would it be better to seek something to remind him that there was a life to lead? Would pain be just as acceptable as pleasure or was pleasure and excitement all he desired? Would he be willing to pay the price should it be demanded of him?

 

Was there pain in the numbness? Was that even possible? He felt his heart beating, so he knew he was alive or was he. His body was alive, but was his soul or had it shrank and faded with the life they had once dreamed about.

 

Pausing to gaze out over the garden below, he finished his beer. Tired of these creeping thoughts. Why think about it, why not just continue putting one foot in front of the other?

Placing the beer on the table next to the terrace door, he walks inside, this time seeing his wife and she seeing him, their glances meet and hold, stark and intense. His searching and searching, hers merely questioning: where have you been?

Reviews

[BlakeL79]

This piece in its totality is a fantastic insight into two characters. I am amazed how much you find out about both people through one train of thought. It draws you in, begs questions from the reader, and then answers them well. Quite a bit goes on here in such a short time span � less than 1,000 words. It's tight, to the point, yet still has the right amount of wistfulness. It races at moments and lingers at others; as such it is well balanced. Also this piece is incredibly well edited, I am very impressed.

"Funny he had not noticed it as it was happening, but at some point it was just simply gone.
What would happen if he simply left the party now? Would anyone notice? No one had seen or acknowledged him yet.
Sometime he wonders, what would happen if he just went away. Would anyone notice?"

This is slightly repetitive. I think there can be better transitions from his thoughts of her leaving him, to him leaving the party, all the way through him leaving the world that he is a part of. I believe that "notice" is somewhat over used. Possibly invoke more grandiose visions of "Would anyone care if I was gone?" You did a great job, but I suspect there is more power that can be brought forth.

I want to discuss the beer as well. I see this as a grounding point for him. Which by the way, he finishes twice, once heading outside and then gazing over the garden. I see this as the him he shows, the normalcy of life. I know it may sound slightly sexist, but I see it as his male half as well. The sternness, the logical part that lives life as it should be lived, not how he wants to live it. I like the repetition of the beer throughout the piece. And that after he finishes it, he seems to attempt to see the her he wants to see, not the her he is forced to see. Someone willing to ask these questions of themself at least has a concept that the questions need to be asked, and this is a shining example of that mentality. My only hope for him is that he does not need to be intoxicated in order to see her for who she is.

It does beg the question if she has her own flaws, although I like that it is unanswered.

Excellent work.