Meeting in the night

Disappointment after disappointment. A broken heart. A punch in the face. Feeling unseen. Again, and again. Enduring verbal abuse. Accusations. Unjustified. Phoebe’ life is full of it. You won’t see it, at least not everyone. Usually, she is quite good in hiding it, minimizing it, talking it down. But not always. When she can endure it no longer, after much good coaxing, failing in the attempt to focus on the good, then she talks with him and he with her. Not in a belittling way. He talks about the pain she feels and it’s hard to describe. He talks about the tears that people can’t hold back and about the anger which is willing to destroy everything around itself. He talks about the hope that was trampled on the ground and the extended helping hand which was spit at. Yes, when she can no longer endure then he speaks. Sometimes she dreams he would take her away. Or she could simply just run away. But where to? She doesn’t know where he is. And where else could she go? He has words which revive when everything dies, when hope is only a combination of specific letters. Once she elected hope to be her favorite word, nagged everyone about it. Now there was nothing left. Neither the others nor the word. Only the shell without meaning. But when he is there, life comes back, the collapsed word unfolds, the shrunken shell. Then the cup spills over and over with no end in sight. Simply hope in the way Phoebe knew it once a few years ago. Oh, what has happened? When no one is looking, and this is happening often lately, more than often, then she feels the phantom pain that pulsates in the place of hope. She feels the pain throughout her body, tenses up, trembles with narrowed eyes, no breath leaves her body. Only tears, cold tears. Phoebe. Sometimes he calls her name. She opens her eyes, the breathing starts again, her head is lifted, her body relaxes. In those moments she knows she must live. It’s not forced, which would be out of line with her nature. But something which comes from her own nature. Rain falls down to earth, steam rises, and Phoebe lives. No idea why she rebelled at times so much against this given-must to live. And no idea why he didn’t rebuke her. He is there when she can’t go on anymore. When she can’t give up and can’t keep fighting. When she freezes, trapped inside herself. And quietly he calls her name.