“A State of Imbalance”
A Short Story
She lived with her dog, Sam. A rather awkward yet gentle golden lab who never shared her secrets with anyone else, never looked solemnly upon her, never passed judgement…no matter how naughty she might have been, and snuggled tightly next to her each night as she slept.
She was of two minds, as she often found herself. A Libra through and through, she often found herself saying, ‘on the other hand’ – the gentle balancing of a Libra woman of life’s complexities, absurdities and oddities.
She woke suddenly this early Autumn morning, breathing heavily from a bad dream.
She had trained herself to breathe slowly when waking from these dreams. Deep breaths in through the nostrils, exhaling through the mouth, until she could gather her wits.
Her husband was out of town on a business trip. How she missed him.
And then she remembered she had just a few hours before, sent her lover of the last year out of her home and onto the streets, not wanting him with her after their latest tryst.
She was spent from the sex, spent from the guilt and spent from the duality of her personality where she had become wife, friend, lover, dog lover, confidant and therapist to more than she wished to be.
Only Sam knew of her duality. He never gave away her state of imbalance.
She got up from the bed, with Sam offering a moan of displeasure that sleep had been interrupted in the middle of the night.
She caught sight of her naked body in the mirror, wondering how could she share it with it with her husband, and her lover. There were no answers forthcoming from the mirror.
How she hated the word ‘lover’. But what other way to describe the man she invited into her life because she was attracted to all the qualities he possessed that her husband didn’t.
Her long, brunette hair was adored by both these men, along with the dimples in her cheeks when she smiled and her beautiful hands. Both men were almost obsessed with what she thought was just her hands, but to each of them where works of divine beauty.
What her husband was lacking, her lover provided…or so she had convinced herself.
She thought of her deceased mother, and how utterly disappointed she would be to hear of her dual life. Her mother would never know of the lives she was leading, but then wondered, if she is in heaven…how she must look upon on her daughter and weep.
She wasn’t selfish, she thought. She gave equally to her husband and lover. And she received nearly equally from each of them.
But the gnawing tug from her soul was inviting her toward coming to terms with the twisted duality she was living.
Neither husband or lover knew of her dedicated devotion towards what each of them provided.
Her husband was steadfast, kind, and dedicated. Her lover was dedicated to her as well, but just in the physical sense – which she was realized in these early hours, she never allowed her husband to explore.
The early Autumn morning was upon her.
Her husband would come back to her arms later this day.
She wondered, out loud…would she continue to live in a dual existence of loving one over the other whenever the day suited her…or would she come to terms with the split personality she was living and cast off her lives of duplicity, and not just settle, but embrace what her soul, what her heart, what her mind and existence was pleading with her to accept?
She thought of her dear mother, deceased 10 years ago, and with tears in her eyes, she could only wonder, where she was to what her beloved mother was, crying over the gulf in between.
Tonight’s musical offering:
Grateful Dead – “Mama Tried”