Chapter 23
Alex:
It still felt difficult to
understand, our
marriage was over? Yet I
refused to take his ring back and I did not want to file for the
divorce. I
didn’t want to be divorced, not as a gay who…
well, how
many gays there were
fighting for the right to be able to marry? And for me to give up so
easily now?
No, the idea
didn’t set well with me.
Yet Jo’s mind didn’t change and I could not
persuade him.
He would move back home with
his parents, that
was his wish, to be
somewhere where he had felt safe, with people that he felt safe with.
It was a
heart crushing thought that I no longer was one of those people, that
our home
was not one of those places. The pain was constant, weighting on my
shoulders
as I prepared for his leaving, packing his things together with his
family. Saara
tried to comfort me, her effort came out some what awkward, but in such
a
situation what else could be expected? Joonas
wouldn’t be the person I had fallen in love with, he was
vulnerable and unable
to handle intimate contact and I was too young to be asked to wait and
waist my
life in the process – these were her words and not my own.
My 23rd
birthday had gone pass me; I
certainly hadn’t felt
like celebrating. I knew there were years to come, I knew I was young,
but I also
felt certain that there are things that even time can not heal. I would
say goodbye
to Joonas and it felt impossible to picture anyone else ever taking his
place
in my heart. I didn’t want to say goodbye; I held on to the
few
happy memories
we had shared, held on to picturing his laughing playful image in my
mind and try
as I might I can not understand where that person has disappeared to.
After his decision I still
visited him in the
hospital though we did not
speak, he was avoiding my gaze resuming back to this silent world of
his. Those
once bright and lively eyes were now looking so tired and haunted;
where are
you Joonas? I kept asking myself as I gazed at his form trying my best
to
understand to make it easier. I wanted him back, I wanted the person I
had met
the previous summer before anything bad had happened to him, when he
was
confident and… so full of life.
Bitterness seemed to swallow me
in. How can
someone get satisfaction
from other’s pain? What kind of mind works that way? To break
someone so
beautiful like my Jo and not just him, but all of us around him, all of
us who
love him. None of our lives will ever be the same, we know too much
now.
Why?
You can not understand evil,
you can not
understand the measurement
until it has been struck against your face and the pain is harsh,
eating your
insides. How cruel and cold world is this? Before it was easier to
ignore and
live in a lie; all the twisted things were somewhere far and the faces
of evil easily
recognised because they were suppose to be ugly.
Yet
the monsters
face that killed
my husband’s soul is handsome, relaxed and smug. You would
never
guess what he
did and he shows no remorse.
Yes, he is still here, the time
has healed
outside wounds but it has not
cured the inside; it feels like I am looking at a life, breathing
painting of
my husband, I can not reach his soul. A shell offering no warmth or
comfort, no
happiness, no agony, only this dull sorrow…
A
shell…No…He has to be
there… He can not have just disappeared…
somewhere deep inside my husband is withering… Yet I do not
have
the tools to
bring him back, to rescue him and I am forced to let go.
Even the trial did not show any
true sign of
remorse. A life of a
beautiful inspiring man has been ruined and taken, not just by the two
sitting
there at the trial, but by more men who’d never get their
punishment. And what
was my husband’s mistake? Being young, beautiful, and
careless
and falling in
love?
The trial was held in early May
and we were
there to listen to the
sentences, while Jo was still kept in hospital. I looked upon those
faces and
the hate reached beyond measurements I can not describe. This world
knows no
justice, I have lost everything and they can justice them to hell and
it still
won’t bring back what has been broken…
Kidnap, multiple and violent
sexual assaults,
attempted murder; 12 years
in prison for Stefan, 10 for his friend. When the sentences were read
the signs
of sick amusement that I had detected on their faces earlier was gone-
I found
myself hoping that both of them would get the chance to experience the
same
pain that they had inflicted on Joonas, let them feel how it feels,
maybe then
they would understand?
The satisfaction of knowing
they were being
punished didn’t last for
long, it still would not take away the pain from Jo; it would not heal
him or
save our marriage. I was still going to lose him from my life and I
didn’t know
how to pick up the pieces to go on.
I decided to let him take Taffy
home with him,
she was always more his
dog than mine and perhaps she could bring him some comfort that the
rest of us
were unable to give?
I chose not to go see him that
day when he was
released from the
hospital and would leave to the airport with his parents. It was not an
easy
decision, but I felt that I had already said everything I could, given
every
argument that I could think of, but the truth was I had just given up
and
submitted to his leaving; perhaps it was for the best?
**^^**^^**^^**
He’s gone. I walk
slowly in the apartment,
my hand touching the cold
walls. Soft yellow glow of the evening sun pours in and I feel like
caught in a
strange dream. It’ so quiet, so still, my vision blurs as I
look
at the couch
and pick a memory of him sitting there with Taffy on his lap, looking
up at me
and smiling. He was there, here, in my arms, in this room. If I close
my eyes I
can see him, almost feel and smell him. I feel broken and lost, my
chest
tightens and breathing is difficult.
It’s too quiet. My
feet’s move
forward without my mind fully giving the
order or understanding it and I soon find myself in the kitchen. My
shaky hand
reaches to open a bottle of wine, fill up a glass. I look around and
close my
eyes before taking a sip.
It’s over and
he’s gone, not dead,
but why does it feel like he is? I
can not reach him. Focusing hard I can hear the sound of his voice in
my head,
ghost like tingle on my arm; the memory of his touch. I keep drinking
and my
body trembles.
How can I get past this? How
can I carry on
without you here?
Do I pretend that it
didn’t happen? That
he was never here? That it was
a dream? This pain… Surely it’s deathly?
Nothing matters.
My heart is broken.
How can I drag myself to
another day?
Jo is gone… I can
not feel him…
he’s gone… Can a soul die before the
body? Nothing makes sense…
I keep drinking; one bottle is
not
enough… I want to forget… Suddenly a
horrid image of my Jo being raped enters my mind and I scream, throwing
the
glass to a nearest wall. It’s sick! This world is sick! I
don’t want to imagine
it! The visions feel violent; wave of nausea spreads through me.
One glass after another wanting
to forget,
wanting to drown the pain
away and these horrid images.
I find myself on the couch the
next morning;
half drunk glass of wine on
the floor, opened bottle on the table. The pain hammers through my
skull,
strong feel of nausea; physical and mental… How can I get
past
this? How can I
go on? Nothing makes sense, sun is shining, but I hardly recognise the
colours.
I want back what I had; I don’t want to know this pain.
**^^**^^**^^**^^**
Joonas:
There is nothing worse than the
emptiness, the
hollow feeling that
spreads until it feels nothing is left. The sun is shining much like it
always
has, spring filled with hope; yet I can’t feel a thing. How
can
you describe
it? Like all the colours have been taken from your world and all that
there is
left is grey without hope that it would change.
It seemed so simple before, the
worries that I
had seem unfamiliar now,
everything does, even the concept of life, everything I thought I knew.
I can
not feel my heart; I can not get close, haze is constant and
surrounding,
suffocating. Dreams… What do they matter when they are
constantly taken from
you? And you are left with the shattered pieces…
The voices, the concern, a
touch… I want
to hide; I do not want to feel…
It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. I can not reach life like
it
was known to
me before.
I feel numb, my heart is lost;
I can not reach
it even though I try.
He is there, close yet out of
reach and I have
to release him
completely. I linger somewhere in between life and death, he should not
witness
my ruin.
Even my body feels unfamiliar
to me, I’ve
been chained to it; my body is
my prison and with it I drown, I can’t get out! Just the
same… It’s all gone…
I can not be what they want.
Why should I talk
when the words resolve
nothing?
I don’t even recall
how it happened,
don’t recall going home… He gave
Taffy to my arms and I held her; she felt so warm and real…
her
tongue licked
my face, sloppy and warm… and I held her; she felt real,
unthreatening and
safe, my life jacked that asked no questions…
Alex…. I forget
where my ring is and my
hand feels naked…
Time is just a blur; night is
when the
nightmares begin. My bed? My
room? Home? Yet I do not recognise the boy that used to be here, I do
not
recognise myself.
I look at myself from the
mirror hating what I
see; my reflection is my
enemy, my body the source of my pain, I can’t get out I want
to
destroy it. I
scratch my face, pull my hair, scream and I hit my fist against the
glass and
it breaks; blood on my hand yet I hardly recognise the pain or the
sound of my
own screams. Shocked voices of my parents, Taffy barking. I scream and
kick in
the hold, panic sweeping through me.
“Saara, call the
hospital! NOW!” My
father’s voice somewhere near and
yet it does not enter my conscious that he’s the one holding
me.
I hear crying,
voices and I scream.
“I want to die! Let
me die!” The
hold only gets stronger forces me drop
the pieces of glass I didn’t realise I was holding.
“No,
Joonas… I won’t! Stop
talking like this… we’ll get you better, I
promise… what ever it takes.”
The words didn’t
reach me at that moment
all I wanted was to die to end
it, end everything, but they didn’t let me. They
didn’t let
me go…
When they took me to the
hospital and committed
me there against my will
because I was danger to myself I hated them, I hated my family and the
doctors,
but most of all I hated myself. I
wanted
to die; I couldn’t understand why they didn’t just
let me.
It would take a long
time before I would be able to thank them, long time before I could let
go of
the self-destructive thoughts. Right then I didn’t see any
hope,
everything was
lost, everything was grey, what was there left to keep trying for?
TBC.
Web published: My Secret Shore
November 7th, 2009.
© KOLGRIM