Upon a darkened night
the flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest
Crawley House feels foreign to me, my son is gone. He had taken a wife and while I am pleased I feel as though I have lost my identity. I have been a Mother and Nurse for so long I have forgotten what it is like to be a woman. The paintings on the walls seem to stare at me and it makes my skin crawl. Outside of the window the darkness looks inviting. How long has it been since I let myself get lost in the night?
I put on a coat and go outside. The night air is cool and invigorating. I walk not knowing where my footsteps will lead but I find I don't care. The moon is bright overhead and provides me with light so I don't stumble on the path. Soon there is more illumination, a light is burning in a window. Like a moth to flame I come closer and I see him. Seated at his desk, head bowed over paper. He runs a hand through his greying hair, he once told me that he was blonde a child. When his hair began greying those around him called him custard and cream.
The night has sharpened my senses. The way I see him now is as a man, not a doctor. The hospital is dark to help encourage patients to sleep. However, I know the last patient was discharged today. His office door whispers open, he hasn't noticed me yet. I make my footfall a tad heavier than normal and he looks up. He stands up, his chair rubbing against the wood floors. He looks at me and I can I know that he sees me as I truly am...as a woman. I make the first move because I know I must. I walk towards him, moving around the table. His leg nudges the chair away and he closes the distance between us. I open my mouth to tell him all the things I want to say. His finger merely comes to my lips asking for silence. He just nods in understanding that he knows.
Fate can never be denied, we can change the path decide on a short-cut or the long way but fate will always have the same destination. My destination is him and his destination is me. His head leans down his intent clear on a kiss. I press up to meet him and our lips meet and we exchange breath. When the need for oxygen overrides our passion we break apart and burrow into his chest while his arms go around me. His hands switch off the lamp and we are shrouded in the comfort of the dark. The moonlight streams in through the window and when he takes my hand and leads me to the cot in the corner I break the silence to whisper, "Yes."
I lost myself to him
and laid my face upon my lovers breast
And care and grief grew dim
as in the mornings mist became the light
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair
A/N: Untitled Poem by Spanish poet St. John of the Cross