Last night, I dreamed of Sjors. In the dream, I was on a bus and Sjors was in the seat behind me. I heard him talking to his colleagues about some mission they had finished, and laughing. They were headed back to a hotel. I ached to turn and speak with him, to feel his gaze on me once more, to hear his voice speaking my name. But there were so many months of cruel words. And the last time I saw him, he looked on me so hatefully, and I was terrified of feeling that again. Somehow, miraculously, in my dream, he spoke civilly to me, if not kindly. And I lay in bed with him again, my head on his chest, his heartbeat in my ears. And the pain, which I feel every second of his absence, receded.
I think that I may have awakened a demon and it haunts me, even when I sleep.
In less than a month I've written 28,000 words. And I've only scratched the surface. The words pour out of me, these memories of Sjors. Recollections of Hans. The programs I built in Africa while I fought the pain.
When I'm not running hard, trying to build this business from scratch, writing proposals and meeting with people and answering e-mails, fighting the slander, and trying to reconnect with friends to put some balance in my life, I spend my days looking backwards, resurrecting Sjors and putting him to paper. And the more I remember, the more the pain, which has never left me, surfaces.
Maybe I was right to bury the poison. Is it like 'G's cancer, dormant, waiting to come back to finish the job?
I'm terrified of writing the next part of the story. There are some demons we weaken with neglect: don't pay them attention and they loosen their grip over time. The most powerful demon I have known, the demon that has haunted me for years was born in April 2011 when I first found Isa's Facebook page. I saw that she had posted a profile picture of herself and Sjors together. At the time, I didn't understand then the mentality of someone who desires marriage because they wish to own another person and retain social status. I earnestly believed that marriage was the natural evolution of mutual love and passion and respect, so it was impossible for me to connect with Sjors' description of his marriage to Isa as a business arrangement. I saw Isa's posting as a symbol of love, not ownership and branding, and so I believed that my love for Sjors would harm this other person. This was anathema to me: that my deep love and need for the man I loved would injure someone else. Already, I had deeply hurt Hans. How could I do this thing? How could I ask Sjors to do it? But to turn from my love of Sjors or to deny it was an act of self-negation. I could not live without loving him. The demon roared to life, the cold and comforting promise to end the pain.
He is the most powerful demon I have known. So familiar now, he has haunted me for years. He is a ruthless companion and lurks in corners, follows me down the street when I run in the sunlight, always at my shoulder, and into churches. He sits in my living room while I work and he talks to me, wraps his arms around me at night. He nearly defeated me in August and September 2011 and I can't say with confidence why he did not. I worry that my description of the brute will get his foot in the door, and I don't know that I can get him to quiet a second time.
No comments:
Post a Comment