34
Where you're not expected
He was sitting in the kitchen making coffee. Today is the day off and he planned to spend it in silence and solitude. His strength must be restored, and he especially loved those rare days when he managed to spend them alone.
He woke up late. He wasn't scratching or shaving yet. He just wanted coffee. Strong and fragrant to start your well-deserved day of doing nothing.
An annoying doorbell made him finally wake up. Smelling a white fluffy robe and smoothing his torn hair with his hand, He went to open the door.
She was on the doorstep. Pretty shabby, and almost defeated. But still so dear and beautiful. His best.
She unceremoniously entered his home. Throwing her large handbag on the floor without taking her shoes off, she walked into the living room and fell into his favorite white chair. With her head back and her eyes closed, she said in a tired voice:
- Don't drive me away. I'm here. Let me stay this time. I can't take it anymore.
He wasn't expecting her. She was the last person he wanted to see today. But I was only able to get rid of the banal:
- Tired?
Having accepted this greeting as an invitation to dialogue, she was visibly animated. Throwing her shoes and legs under her, she sat down more comfortably and began to speak in her beautiful voice.
- You have no idea how tired I am. I have no more strength left. Alone. All alone. Work. Family. Kids. Parents. Everywhere you go and check everything. To make everyone happy. I can't take it anymore. I want to drop everything. And stay here with you. In the morning, pick fruit in your garden. Go to the beach in the afternoon. In the evening, look out from your balcony. This sky. Mountains and sea. To be with you and not to think about anything else.
He took a deep breath and did not hide his irritation. A rare day off was disrupted. He loved her too much. Each time he deliberately manipulated her.
“You know what?” he said, “I’m really tired of it.” I've heard that song a hundred times. And every time you did it, you did it. I let you stay, and how did it all end? Very quickly, it all got boring, and you started asking for it back. I talked, I begged you to let go. I was ready for anything. As long as I let you go. I swore you'd do it yourself and you wouldn't need my help again. You rejected me a hundred times. And the world I live in. You needed the adventure, the suffering, the whirlpool of events, the difficulties, the joys that I could not give you. I just don't have them. And my calm and measured life annoyed you. What went wrong with you again?
- I don't know. But this time it was harder. The country is at war. Children get sick. Parents are getting old. Business is hard. Husband's not helping. Health is failing. I just exhaled, she blurted out in one breath.
You know, it's no harder now than before. At least this time, there's a roof over your head and the kids are alive. Mom's healthy and close. You're surrounded by people you can lean on. Only your pride does not allow it. You have a passion that gives you strength. And your husband doesn't bother you anymore. Your inner core is intact, I can see that. And health? It's just an operation to restore vision. It is made by hundreds of thousands of people and life is getting better. So I'm sorry. Not this time. Take your torbu and leave. I'm not ready for you.
She knew when it was useless to argue with him. She stood up silently from her chair, and without saying goodbye, slammed the door behind her.
In fifteen minutes, she will wake up from anesthesia on the operating table. She'll be wearing a tight bandage. Very soon she will take it off and, I don’t know why, look at the world differently.
And He?
He'll put off his rare day off and get back to work.
Yet it is a dubious pleasure to be a Guardian Angel.
Author Elena Klimenkova, especially for
P.S. And remember, just by changing your consciousness – together we change the world!
Source: www.facebook.com/My40Club/?fref=ts.
He woke up late. He wasn't scratching or shaving yet. He just wanted coffee. Strong and fragrant to start your well-deserved day of doing nothing.
An annoying doorbell made him finally wake up. Smelling a white fluffy robe and smoothing his torn hair with his hand, He went to open the door.
She was on the doorstep. Pretty shabby, and almost defeated. But still so dear and beautiful. His best.
She unceremoniously entered his home. Throwing her large handbag on the floor without taking her shoes off, she walked into the living room and fell into his favorite white chair. With her head back and her eyes closed, she said in a tired voice:
- Don't drive me away. I'm here. Let me stay this time. I can't take it anymore.
He wasn't expecting her. She was the last person he wanted to see today. But I was only able to get rid of the banal:
- Tired?
Having accepted this greeting as an invitation to dialogue, she was visibly animated. Throwing her shoes and legs under her, she sat down more comfortably and began to speak in her beautiful voice.
- You have no idea how tired I am. I have no more strength left. Alone. All alone. Work. Family. Kids. Parents. Everywhere you go and check everything. To make everyone happy. I can't take it anymore. I want to drop everything. And stay here with you. In the morning, pick fruit in your garden. Go to the beach in the afternoon. In the evening, look out from your balcony. This sky. Mountains and sea. To be with you and not to think about anything else.
He took a deep breath and did not hide his irritation. A rare day off was disrupted. He loved her too much. Each time he deliberately manipulated her.
“You know what?” he said, “I’m really tired of it.” I've heard that song a hundred times. And every time you did it, you did it. I let you stay, and how did it all end? Very quickly, it all got boring, and you started asking for it back. I talked, I begged you to let go. I was ready for anything. As long as I let you go. I swore you'd do it yourself and you wouldn't need my help again. You rejected me a hundred times. And the world I live in. You needed the adventure, the suffering, the whirlpool of events, the difficulties, the joys that I could not give you. I just don't have them. And my calm and measured life annoyed you. What went wrong with you again?
- I don't know. But this time it was harder. The country is at war. Children get sick. Parents are getting old. Business is hard. Husband's not helping. Health is failing. I just exhaled, she blurted out in one breath.
You know, it's no harder now than before. At least this time, there's a roof over your head and the kids are alive. Mom's healthy and close. You're surrounded by people you can lean on. Only your pride does not allow it. You have a passion that gives you strength. And your husband doesn't bother you anymore. Your inner core is intact, I can see that. And health? It's just an operation to restore vision. It is made by hundreds of thousands of people and life is getting better. So I'm sorry. Not this time. Take your torbu and leave. I'm not ready for you.
She knew when it was useless to argue with him. She stood up silently from her chair, and without saying goodbye, slammed the door behind her.
In fifteen minutes, she will wake up from anesthesia on the operating table. She'll be wearing a tight bandage. Very soon she will take it off and, I don’t know why, look at the world differently.
And He?
He'll put off his rare day off and get back to work.
Yet it is a dubious pleasure to be a Guardian Angel.
Author Elena Klimenkova, especially for
P.S. And remember, just by changing your consciousness – together we change the world!
Source: www.facebook.com/My40Club/?fref=ts.
