She Said…She Said…Gwen's Side...

Gwen's Side...

She Said....She Said....

 

GWEN....

She was not sure she could pinpoint an exact moment of when it began. She couldn't begin to find a certain minute or hour or day that she could blame. Instead, the past few months had seemed to come at her in a blinding blur, as if someone had taken her memories with the man that she loved and put them on high speed in a stainless steel blender. She could remember as far back as their wedding day and all of the moments that followed soon after: their many trips overseas; their luxurious shopping sprees; the countless romantic nights. Yet, something had happened in the course of their happiness that changed everything forever. She knew it was something huge and something life altering yet oddly enough, she could not vocalize the exact reason that her marriage, and her life was falling apart.

It had happened suddenly during one of their autumnal trips to Lake George. They had visited the cabin and had a lovely weekend sitting by the fireplace, drinking brandy and eating at the country club. They had taken a small boat ride across the lake and had even managed to go for a short horse-back ride after she convinced him that he would be safe and that he would enjoy it (and yes, he did)! Everything seemed to be perfect and it was just that thought that seemed to cause a downward spiral for her. Suddenly a meek yet powerful voice whispered deep inside of her, "Everything that is perfect can't stay that way forever..." and suddenly an icy grip squeezed on her heart and even though she wore mounds of layers of clothing, she began to sweat in the chill, crispy air. She thought that a glass of white wine might calm her nerves but instead, she felt nauseated and the feeling of anxiety seemed to heighten as they packed up the G-class and headed back to the city.

He could sense that something was amiss and unfortunately, he was all too familiar to her mood swings. She hurried to search the surface of her life for the cause of her stress: too many restrictions and not enough creativity at work; meddlesome in-laws; aging. She immediately accepted these as the cause of her distress and began to furiously work at alleviating her worries. She reignited her flame for living a life as a ballerina and entertained the notion of opening a ballet studio. She worked hard to please her in-laws and hosted two dinner parties to show off some new recipes she forced herself to learn. She even dipped into her own personal savings and secretly got a Botox shot to help her feel youthful and beautiful enough for him. Of course, he noticed and he went on and on about how beautiful she had been looking lately and she attributed it to eating right and doing lots of yoga, but it was all bullshit. He didn't know though, and that was all that matters. As long as he was happy, her job was done.

Yet, even though she harbored on these trivial matters and she seemed to be taking the right steps to help alleviate her pain, the anxiety only worsened. She began to lose weight, sleep less, and cry more. He, being the ever dutiful husband, knew the routine all too well and was well versed in the actions that he needed to take in order to help her through this phase. He was supportive, understanding and caring. He took care of the chores in the house and picked up any slack at work that she might have carelessly dropped due to her mood. He stayed up at night with her when her demons invaded her dreams and he waited until she slept soundly, even though his eyes were black with drowsiness. He was amazing, and yet, she felt horribly guilty about what he had to deal with and instead of making it better, she seemed to only feel worse.

She felt as if she were grasping at strings and so at her mother's urging, she packed up her small Gucci tote and decided to head to Buffalo for a long weekend to "clear her head". "The fresh mountain air will do me good" she told him, mimicking her mother's every word. Of course, he nodded in agreement and that Saturday morning at the break of down, they drove down into the city, toward the Port Authority. He was his normal chipper self and she tried, in vain, to follow along in his spritely conversation by offering a meek smile or two during certain points in the conversation. But, even though he was sitting just a mere foot away from her, his voice seemed to be miles away as her mind drifted off into a dark, unknown place.

They sat outside the bus gate waiting for the official call to board and he held her hand tightly. Every few moments he would squeeze her hand and she would squeeze back as if to tell him, "Yes, I'm still alive". They sipped warm cups of coffee (hers decaf) out of styrofoam cups. They sat in silence yet she felt like so much was being said. When the gate keeper took her ticket, he grabbed her and embraced her fiercely and then pulled back and planted a warm kiss on her lips. She robotically pursed her lips in response and then made her way through the gate and onto the bus. She found an empty two-seater and plopped herself next to the window. She stared at him, with her fingertips pressed against the window pane as if she were trying to reach through and touch him one last time. She knew she was only going to be gone for three days, yet something deep inside told her that this would be the last goodbye from him....forever.