Wednesday, September 9, 2009

three word wednesday~disarm engage mayhem

Fat Boy




Once upon a time, there was a boy and a girl--who felt the universe completely revolved around their beloved, and could not imagine life without the other.

So, following tradition, he gave her a ring and they were engaged. They stood before their peers, their parents, their God, and vowed to stay with each other into death. Secretly smiling when they repeated the age old words; they knew they'd be together beyond death, into eternity. Running out beneath a shower of rice (for this was in the long, long ago...before eco-friendly birdseed was tossed in the air), they went forth into the mayhem that is life.

Jobs, cars, houses, children--all of those things and more darted into their existence. There were times they lost sight of each other in every way. Times when they turned on the one they loved the most, because there you can do the most harm. You see, those are the ones, those people disarmed in emotional battle by the love they bear for the other combatant... the ones who, when they are finally put too far into the zone of heartpain, strike back with full word weapons... both squaring off, saying things that cause wounds deep and hidden, feeling a small zing of victory, ignoring the shame that comes with it...holding on to the zing, to the strike, to that shivering surge of power.

Words, phrases never forgotten, forming a plain of pain that eventually forms into a suppurating--for that is the only word that really describes it--wound. A black hole that consumes everything else; the good, the joyous, the times when you lay with each other, the sound of your breathing weaving into a song of love.

One day, one of them spoke a word...a word not connected in any way to the rush of anger and pain that followed it...filling the space between them. Atom bombs disguised as phrases coated with bile were hurled, each dedicated to the sole purpose of emotional destruction. They chose to take no prisoners. The battlefield--disguised as the master bath--was set for full scale war.

As sometimes happens with these situations, the attack becomes so powerful, the atomic blast so intense, it makes Hiroshima seem tame. What was rich between them dissipated--all that was left to show that anything had ever existed were the shadows burned into concrete.

Yet, there are those times, times when breathing slows, memories that heal rise and they find their way back to that place in their universe again and, lying together, new words made of love and goodness and joy rise up on their breath, again believing their loved one is 'home'.


Even if it's just for the moment.






15 comments:

  1. Oh my, qb: it's been done to, done by, done up, tis true. How miraculous is it that the fat boy-decimated plain can still give rise to the moments?

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  2. Well put! I love the way you liken pain to fat boy - it just sits in the room, demanding everyone look at it until you can look no more... very powerful, quin!

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  3. Beautifully written and so very true.

    b

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  4. Hahaha, took me a while to remember a "fatboy" was a kind of bomb... I thought you were trash-talking the fellow in the relationship at first. Whoops. *rolls his eyes at himself*

    Wreck

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  5. This was excellent and I believe it hits home for most of us.

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  6. Excellently crafted!

    'Atom bombs disguised as phrases coated with bile were hurled, each dedicated to the sole purpose of emotional destruction.'

    I love the metaphor of nuclear war here. Very well done.

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  7. Unflinching, focused and deeply insightful. Sometimes you remind me of David Cronenberg, only instead of showing us the actions of the heart, you make us look at what's inside.

    The second to the last paragraph sings.

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  8. i never fail to be astonished people read my work, much less take the time to comment.

    thank you all...

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  9. "people disarmed in emotional battle by the love they bear for the other combatant... the ones who, when they are finally put too far into the zone of heartpain, strike back with full word weapons."
    You reached in and smoothed out a rough place so it could be seen clearly, like straightening out a wrinkled piece of paper so the words could be read. I loved this couple, hurt for them, felt shame for them/us..

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  10. Good use of war/nuclear war as metaphor for troubles in marriage. Sometimes, it’s easy to lose focus or get scattered when using such a metaphor but it’s all done to an exact degree here. Well done.

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  11. Been there, done that...well said and written.

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  12. "it makes Hiroshima seem tame"

    that was my favorite part.

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