Tag: heartache

Chapter Fifty-Two – 3 of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

When I arrived at Francis’ office, he wasn’t there.

He always waited for me to leave work. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t be at work. I found a payphone and called his number, but no one picked up. I called Stacey and Max’s number and Stacey picked up almost right away.

“Stacey, is something wrong? I went to meet Francis at the office, and he wasn’t there.”

She took in a deep breath. “Oh, Jamieson. Francis is here.”

“He’s at home?” I was shocked. I couldn’t comprehend why he would have gone home without me. My mind knew that we always went home together.

“You better come here, Jamieson.” She let out another long breath. “You aren’t going to like what he has to say to you. I’m sorry, Jamieson, I really am.”

I hung up and hopped on the first bus I knew that would take me to Francis’ apartment building. I sat on the bus clutching my backpack and holding tightly to it. I didn’t like the worry that I heard in her voice and the sad tone that Stacey spoke to me with. It was as if something terrible had happened or someone had died. If I closed my eyes, I could hear her voice in my mind, and it was almost like a warning of sorts.

I tried to think of what she could have been warning me against. Was Francis okay? Why hadn’t he waited for me at his work? Was he sick? The ride on the bus took forever and no time at all. Time ceased to matter while I was the bus. My book, journal and my tarot cards were in my bag, but I didn’t pull any of them out. I knew that none of them would bring me comfort until I spoke to Francis and I could feel his arms around me. I sat there on the bus knowing that everything would be okay if I could hear his voice, if I could feel his lips against mine.

By the time I got to his building and got off the bus, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was on a death march. I was filled to the brim with worry. When I reached the building, I ran into the lobby and keyed his buzzer number into the voice box. I expected to hear his voice welcoming or saying hello like he normally did, but there was only the sound of silence to greet me before the loud buzz telling me that the front door was open. I didn’t bother with the elevator but took the stairs to the apartment. I knew the stairwell was closer to the apartment door and I wouldn’t have to walk down the hallway.

With each step, the worry filled my mind until it was all that I could see. I pictured Francis sick on his bed or injured and waiting on the couch for me. I could think of no other reason for him not to wait for me. He must have been hurt. It was the only explanation that made sense. When I got to the right floor, I left the stairwell and there was his apartment door. I raised my hand to knock on the wood, but the door opened before I could knock.

Francis stood there.

He looked horrible as if he had been crying for a long time and I went to kiss him, but he backed away from me. He held up his hand in the universal gesture of stop and I did. I looked at him and I could see the seas that had been calm before were now a wild storm. The water lashed against his eyes.

“You’re only six years older than my son.” He said softly. Francis looked like he was struggling to get the words out.

“I know that already,” I told him and went to move inside the apartment, knowing that everything would be all right if I could just hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That we would get through whatever was wrong together.

He held up his hand again and actually pushed me softly back from him. “No,” he said. “You’re only six years older than my son.” He said again. “I’m going to be sixty-one when you’re just about to turn forty. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ruin your life.”

Something clicked in my brain, and I finally realized what was happening. “Francis, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

My chest hurt and I wondered if my heart would stop. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t draw breath, I was shattering but I was still standing in front of the man I loved with all my heart, and all he did he still had his hand up, like a talisman, holding me apart from him.  “I don’t want you to be anyone else but you,” I told him, hating that my voice was breaking. I watched my words fall to the carpet at his feet, unable to reach him. “I love you with everything I have.”

“I can’t do this,” he said again. The words came out roughly and I felt like he had slapped me.

“Can’t we go inside and talk?” I asked, sure that he would let me in, that I could hold him and comfort him, positive that all I needed to do was talk to him. I didn’t realize that his mind had already been made up.

“I don’t love you,” he said. “I’m not sure I ever did. I think I was in love with the idea of you.” He didn’t say anything for a moment and in that silence, my heart broke into pieces, shattering like a glass window into so many pieces. I could hear them clattering to the bottoms of my feet, the jagged edges cutting into me and making me bleed all the way down. It was like the floor rose up to hold me and at the same time, the lights above me were incredibly bright, so bright that I couldn’t see.

“I love you,” I said. I realized then that I was crying, that tears were streaming down my face. “I love you, Francis. I love you with all my heart.”

He nodded and it looked as if my words hurt him. I could see the pain slash across his face. “But I don’t love you. Don’t make this difficult, Jamieson. For both our sakes, please.”

I nodded, unsure how to find my voice, feeling as if I were falling and flying at the same time, unable to get the world to stop moving and stay still. I stared at him, unsure of who this man was anymore. Had I loved someone but never knew them?

I nodded again, pulled my coat around me. “Okay,” I said. “Okay, I love you, okay. Okay, I love you.”

I turned away from him because I knew that the more I looked at him, the more I believed that our love could survive anything and I knew that it was no longer there, he had put the wall between us. “Okay,” I said again.

I went to the stairwell door and looked back at him. He was looking at me, but he didn’t see me anymore. “Bye.” I said, trying to fill that one word with everything I wanted to say but he didn’t want to hear.

I went down the stairs and out the side door. It had grown dark, and it was raining when I stepped outside. I stood there in the rain, letting it wash over me for a moment, before I started walking towards the bus stop. I was almost there when I heard my name behind me. I turned, my heart in my throat, expecting to see Francis racing after me, but it was Max. She was carrying an umbrella. “Jamieson, here. Get under here. Are you okay?”

I nodded my head but when the tears started again, I shook it from side to side. “I don’t know.”

“That was a shitty thing.” She said. “A really shitty thing he did to you. I told him not to do it that way. He’s such an asshole.”

I almost went to his defence even then. I almost told her that Francis wasn’t an asshole, but I couldn’t do it. I just nodded because I couldn’t find the words.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked.

I nodded robotically. “Okay.” I said. “I will be okay.”

She hugged me tightly and when she pulled away, she gave me her umbrella. “Here, you need this more than I do, you have further to go home.”

More tears started. I felt like I was walking away from the home where I had been the happiest. Where Francis and I had been building some kind of life together. “Okay,” I said. “Thank you,”

I walked to the bus stop then and looked into the distance. I could see my bus coming. Getting onto the bus, all I could hear was the sound of rain and the rest of my heart falling away from me. I took comfort from the pain I felt because it meant I was still alive.

As the bus took me back to Lisa’s, I let the tears fall and they mirrored the rain falling outside of the bus. I turned to look out the window and could see my face, pale against the glass. It looked like I had become water, and I wondered if the water would take away the pain that was running through me. Finally, I embraced it because I felt like I deserved it. As the bus moved onward, taking me away from the man I loved, I knew that I was leaving a part of myself behind. I looked at the roadside and could see the jagged pieces of my heart littering the road like rubies in the dark.

Chapter Forty – 5 of Cups

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

I was smiling when the bus drew up to the stop.

Francis was there waiting for me. He saw me in through the window of the bus and he came towards me, each step making the light in his face shine brighter. I wondered if I was as bright as him. I looked down at my skin and wondered if my light would shine through. I could feel the brightness increase the closer to Francis that I got. I wondered if it was possible that I was made of stars. I could see pinpricks of light in the pores of my skin.

The bus stopped and the door opened, and he was there in front of me. I had been dreaming and thinking about him all night and I was thrilled to realize that he wasn’t a dream and that the attraction to him was still palpable and real.  I could feel it growing within me with each step that I took toward him and wondered if the stars would be able to find the way out of my skin.

I had to be dreaming. I couldn’t be walking towards a beautiful man who was attracted to me, but then he was there, and his arms wrapped around me, and his kiss was jus as it was the night before, heady and full of want. I kissed him back and trying to convey joy and amazement. It felt like I was flying even though I knew that my feet were planted firmly on the ground. It was everything I thought falling in love should be.

He broke the kiss and looked me, light dancing in his eyes. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi yourself,” I told him. I kissed him again and then he took my hand, and we made our way to his apartment building. It felt natural holding his hand, like it belonged there. He took his hand back briefly to light two cigarettes and passed one to me.

I walked beside him, relishing the feeling of his hand clasping mine. I could feel an electric current passing between us and I began to wonder if the light would float out of us. I imagined a cloud of dust filled with diamonds in our wake. I felt so unlike myself, not in a bad way. I knew that we had only just met, but Francis could see all of me. He saw the pain that I carried with me, recognized it within himself, and still wanted me.

I knew that there were a few things we would have to discover about each other, but I also knew that I already loved him without a shadow of a doubt and that frightened me. I had dreamed of finding a man who would love me without question, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of fear. Despite that, I knew that I was heading towards something, and I was glad that we were going to be doing it together.

We walked into his apartment and Stacey was there, along with another young woman. “Good to see you again, Jamieson!” She said with a wide smile. She turned and gave Francis a wide wink. “This is my daughter, Shawna.”

Shawna came forward and gave me a quick hug. She was my age and had dark auburn hair and a kind face. “Hello! I’ve heard a lot about you. I hope all of it’s true.” I blushed, but not as deeply as Francis did. “I’m glad to see that someone has been able to pull Francis out of his shell.”

“We call him the turtle,” Stacey said. “Occasionally, he will peek out and engage with life, but it’s not too often.”

“What are you talking about?” Francis said, putting his hands on his hips. “I engage with life more than you two!” He wagged his finger at them both. “Come on, Jamieson. I’ll take you to my room.”

He showed me to his room and it was like a world colour had bloomed around me. I stepped into a room that had been decked out with all the colours of the rainbow. The walls had been draped with pictures of friends and family amidst scarves in every shade draped from the curtains, a bedspread that was dark brown and gold, and more fabric than I had ever seen before in my life. There were plastic boxes filled with pins and needles for sewing, trim and fringe for edging, pearls and other beads tucked beside a wingback chair covered in blue velvet fabric. In one corner was a mannequin dummy draped with the beginnings of an outfit. He had a small television in the corner. There were shelves that ran nearer to the ceiling that held books and crystals. I could see a mortar and pestle and a wreath with a pentagram at its centre.

“Don’t mind those two,” he said and closed the door. “They like to tease me a lot. They call me the hermit or the turtle. I just like my own company.”

“You have to be the hermit in order to shine your light.” I said.

“You’re adorable,” he said softly. He kissed me softly and I felt the need in that kiss.

We stood there looking at each other and then he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “I just want to clear things up a bit before we continue.”

“Okay,” I knew what he wanted to talk about before he opened his mouth. There was a weight in the air and I could feel it thickening as he gathered up the strength that he needed to speak them.

“You know what I want to talk to you about. You know that someone hurt me, too. But you should know that I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked him. I spoke the words softly, afraid to disturb the cloud that filled the room around us. I could sense that this was the weight that Francis carried with him. As he spoke, I watched as the cloud grew.

“It’s been fifteen years.” There was a loud silence after those words. “You must think I’m some kind of coward.”

“I would never think that of you.” I told him.

“I’ve been too afraid to.” He took another deep breath as if preparing himself for what could only be the worst. I watched as the cloud began to grow even darker, filled with words left unsaid, emotions kept to himself. I carried my own cloud, so I recognized it right away. “Every time that someone shows any kind of interest, I’d run away from them. I was too afraid to let anyone else get that close to me again.” He took a breath and when he let it out, I could feel a breeze kiss my cheeks and watched as it danced with the curtains, sending the gold lame and leopard printed fabric flutter in the wind.

“I was too afraid, until you.”

With those last two words, the weight of the cloud disappeared as if the sun itself had dried up all the unshed and excess rain. He was looking at me with hope it his eyes and at that moment, I would see right into his spirit, his dark eyes filled with need, want and hope “If you’ll have me, Jamieson, I’m yours.”

I kissed him and nodded. There was no question in my mind. My heart already knew the answer and I thought that he could feel the words  

Leaning forward, I kissed him gently on the lips. “Of course I’ll have you, but only if you’ll have me.”

He pulled me into a hug and kissed me. I could feel the hope in that kiss because I felt the same. I wanted to let go of the pain that I had carried onto for so long. I tried to communicate all of this in my kiss so that he would know that I understood him. When he gently broke the kiss, he looked at me and said “So, if we’re going to be together, what do I call you?”

Words ran through my mind like heart, magic, wish and love but I just told him: “How about boyfriends? That gives us a start and we can grow something together.”

There was a soft knock at Francis’ bedroom door. Stacey opened the door. She held up a plate of cookies. “Hello you two, I thought you two could come up for air and that you might need some nourishment.” She gave me a wide wink and I felt my cheeks blush.

“We’ve decided to call ourselves boyfriends.” Francis said with a wide smile.

“Boyfriends, huh?” Stacey gave us a huge grin. “That’s fantastic news!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Francis said.

I nodded and took a cookie from the plate. I thought I had never tasted anything so wonderful in my life before.