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Home Is Where the Heart Is: a romantic essay (Part III)
By: Pachito el Che
Posted on: Tue, 04/01/2008 - 2:20pm
Posted on: Tue, 04/01/2008 - 2:20pm
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I have never had any success in keeping a lover in my arms. I have tried a thousand and more nights, but not once did I awake enfolded in their wings. I’ve always wanted to. Either I got too hot or uncomfortable, or it was the other way around; but this time was different. My right arm I placed under her pillow. She cuddled up to me pressing her naked buttocks to my bare hips. I tucked my legs beneath hers and we clicked like two identical spoons. Four windows open in the cool South Hadley house, but only one blanket for one night. Our bodies were the flame which kept us happy, serene, together. We slept for hours, and it wasn’t until three hours later that I awoke, almost as in a dream still, and realized that she had not moved, still peaceful, still in my arms. I pressed her closer to me and laid a shadow-like kiss upon her neck so as not to wake her.
Too long had my heart been unhappy. Too long have I felt the daily cold morning rays of solitude touch my cheek in the break of day; reminding me to awaken into what was the harsh reality of life, alone. To wake up and get out of the wrong side of the bed is one thing, but to wake up and get out of bed on the wrong side on no one is worse. But not that day. She woke up, had to. She had to work in three hours, but worked one and a half hours away in Boston. I had set the alarm clock for 6:15. I even slept on the side of the bed the alarm was on so she couldn’t just roll over and snooze. I didn’t want her to be late, not for me. Needless to say, all it took was for her to turn around, lay me on my back, and whisper to me, “Just five more minutes.” I rolled over three times to snooze.
Her kind fingers stroked the few hairs on my chest. My left leg had voluntarily surrendered itself to be conquered by hers. Her head was buried in my neck, and ever so slightly she dropped tiny kisses like mores-code, telling me to stay.
I could not move. I didn’t want to. I knew what would happen if she woke. I would pack alone and get on the plane alone. The plane to home, away from my smile, my held hand, my happy heart. She showered, dressed, and I watched. I was naked; she wasn’t, and the time was coming nearer.
She kneeled beside me on the bed and sweetly covered me with the blanket. She looked so beautiful, her wild hair pulled back as it had been when we first met, dressed in black. I felt like I was dying, lying in the perpetual casket that is my body. She kissed me. I should have made her stay. She kissed me over and over again with the same sensuality and sincerity she had always had with me. So generously, even despite my morning breath, but she tasted like clean, like good, like home. I should have grabbed her, stripped her from her clothes as I had many times before, but I didn’t. I watched what I did not want to leave, go. I said something lame, something stupid. I said to her after sitting up, “Get home safe.” She looked kindheartedly towards me before closing the door, smiled, and like that, was gone. I felt my eyes water, my stomach tighten with every breath, my face frowned, and my arms clinched, hands and legs holding nothing but air.
I was empty, alone; again, like before I had come to visit my friend. I know I am foolish for feeling so much longing or being too emotional over someone who was mine for only a weekend, but I tell you this in my defense…if home is in fact where the heart is, then my home will now forever be wherever she may go. One life, one love, one night to remember; I wouldn’t change it. I will not try to fill the proverbial hole because I am glad we met. A hundred years of hurt may come, but I was happy once, and I wouldn’t give that up for all the happiness in the world. I did what I thought I should. I did only what I thought I could. That feeling leaves me not with regret, but peace.
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First of all, I would like to compliment you on your amazing talent of writing. Your words painted a beautiful picture and captivated my interests with every word. This essay reminds me of a smaller version of a “you-can’t-put-down” type of book. When I first saw that it was a three part essay, my original plan was to just comment on the first blog, but I couldn’t stop reading. After reading the essay I wanted to read more, I wanted to read about a reconnection between the two of you, but, unfortunately, you were left with a sadder ending. If I were you, I would fly away and search for her, keep in contact, fall in love all over again. I’m guessing it’s easier said than done, right?
The love you guys shared was so beautiful, and so rare, making it oh-so tragic. I couldn’t help but think about my boyfriend when reading. I feel so safe and connected with him, as you did with your lover, as if I found my home within him. Also, as your connection was forced to end, sadly ours will too, since he has to move to California. My friend wrote me a note, part of it said, “…when Adam looks at you, it’s like you’re his everything, the thing is, you share that same look. I’ve never seen that before.” I read the note not too long before I read this essay, and I can’t help but wonder if you and your lover have had that connection (I’ll bet a penny that you have! C=).
Wow Mr. Donoso. This truly touched me in a way I can't explain. I have had many friends and "acquaintances" throughout the short years of my life. I realize I haven't lived my complete life and I do have many years ahead of me but I constantly feel that lonesome feeling. All around friends, relatives, and me seem to have relationships that last for a while, sometimes it seems like ages. I crave for a partner to share like that, someone to express the intimate passion and love that I feel within. I have had many girlfriends in the past, but none seem to fit my needs and my relationship with them ends severely. I either never talk to these girls again or grow a sort of grudge against them. I hope to find a girl that I can hold a conversation with and talk about stuff that relate to this world and important topics such as politics, music, global warming etc. I don't want to have a conversation about a new music video that was released yesterday (I find myself often in that situation). I need someone who has an incline towards religion and family and when I talk to them, I don't want to feel like I'm talking to Lennie from "Of Mice and Men". I'm not sure if it is the way I come out, but I seem to attract girls with beauty not intelligence. So that feeling of loneliness always shadows me constantly. I try to ignore it but it seems to catch up to me at times. I am not sure if this is the loneliness you talk of in your essay but I guess all loneliness is in a way related. I loved the details and how you described everything, even the very room you were in. I understand what you mean when you say you wouldn't give all the happiness in the world for that one night. There are some experiences that seem to give this painful life meaning. They define our lives and even happiness wouldn't be able to replace that because it's magnitude isn't equal. I find love as the most potent feeling ever experienced by man. I see it as a kind of backstabber since it does bring both pain and happiness to a person's life. Love can never die, only be covered and I seem to have a mountain of dirt over my heart. I find it helpful to just forget about people rather then to deal with them constantly and therefore it has created a barrier. For someone to receive my intimate love they will need a shovel. That mountain has grown tremendous in size and has covered my heart in a shield that may at times be helpful but it also causes harm. I do love my friends, I do love my family and God but when it comes to a lover my heart hides because it would rather not see happiness than bleed in pain. I am trying to change this, believe me but habits are hard to change. Your essay was awesome I absolutely loved it. I hope you do get to see this person again and try to stay in contact. Good Luck! =D
And P.S. I wrote this story on the airplane the day I left. I did some minor editing here and there, but with tears in my eyes I wrote it and after a sigh, I also moved on. That is life. The glass is already broken, enjoy what time you DO have :)
No, Divani. As all things in life, everything that has a beginning has an end. Our love was pure, but we could not be together. She lived in Boston, then San Fransisco, then Lake Placid, Mt. Hood, etc.
As for me, family is the single most important thing to me. I truly value the opinions of my mother and father, and hope to be near them always... for me emotionally, for my own family (some day) to know them and love them as I have, and because they are the only ones who have never tossed me aside and have always loved me for me. No one will ever accept you as your family will. You can choose lovers and friends, but family is given to you. I try to appreciate them as much as I can. Because their lives, like my own, will end some day... hopefully in another 100 years :)
I wasnt' going to change and neither was she, and both of us didnt' want or expect that of the other. We knew what we were getting into, but we didn't care; like it sounds your friend and you are doing. But a love without family and their support is sad to me. Just remember "Marriage is a Private Affair" by Chinua Achebe... one day your family will hopefully "wake up" and realize that we live in a world where we love with our hearts, not our eyes, and not because of tradition.
It was a moment I will never forget. It was sad to say goodbye, it always is. But just because something (like our love) ended, another was born years later and I am happy. I really wish that she is too; where ever she is now...
I have read this essay in its entirety; it has kept my interest throughout because it flows beautifully. Honestly, since I've read this, I haven't been able to get it out of my mind, for that's just how much I adore the profoundness of it. It even brought tears to my eyes and left me so touched that I felt I had to tell someone--anyone--about it, in an effort of sharing its unfortunately short-lived, passionate, perfect romance.
I can deeply relate to the most powerful sentence in this piece, "...if home is in fact where the heart is, then my home will now forever be wherever she may go". After I was forced to break up with my love (cultural issues from my parents) after happily together for over a year, I felt exactly the emotion these lines convey. To tell you the truth, there is only one life to live and I believe in living it happily and following your own heart, so my love and I are back together. He has my heart and I can‘t find any reason to ever forget him so easily and move on. He’s something specail and I can feel it. This time, however, we are being extra careful as to not make my parents find out. Just like you've felt with this woman, I have felt with him; peace, comfort, those Morse code kisses on my neck that plead with me not to go.
You leave me wondering, I must say. My question is, why didn't you and the woman ever get into a serious relationship? Or even stay in touch? It seemed like you both had deep feelings for each other, and as I recall, your eyes watered after she had left for work. Personally, if I were you, I'd find some way to keep in touch with her and not let that weekend be the only moment of bliss. Or, since your heart is with her like you say, you should try to get in contact with her again and rekindle that flame. You're not getting any younger, Mr. Donoso, so you better hurry up! ;P