Healing time
Vince came. He came after me that day and saved me from myself. I understand it now completely. I understand the meaning this man has had in my life and the remarkable change he created in me. Instead of letting me run away to London he made me face all the things I was running away from for so long. Intimacy, love, myself. He came and he stopped me - while moving across the world. If he hadn't... I don't know. I guess I would have kept on running in London the way I had been running in Manchester and eventually would have been stopped - by drugs, by some nameless shag or by the insanity and emptiness of the lifestyle I would have been leading without him. Without him I would have lived it loud, shagged away and pretended to think that it was all I ever wanted. The truth is that without Vince it would have become old pretty soon. The insane life-style would have burned me down slowly but surely. I wouldn't have propably noticed the change in me since Vince wouldn't have been there keeping me in line and pointing it out to me. Vince propably thinks he didn't have any hold on me on the crazy years but he always did.
Today I sit beside a hospital bed and look at my love who is sleeping unconsiously. So many wires are attached to him that I can't count them. He is pale and looks so fragile. The sound of the respirator has become almost a soothing sound to me. Every time it pumps air into Vince's lungs it means that he is still with me at least a few moments longer. The reality of the situation that the machine hissing next to Vince is the only thing keeping us together makes me feel sheer terror. I feel so helpless, there is absolutely nothing I can do except hope and pray. On the moments when I can think more clearly I understand that now is the time for me to save Vince. It is time for me to be strong for him and make him heal and come back to me. The nurses keep saying that it is possible that Vince feels my presence even thought he is so quiet and so unresponsive. So unlike everything that he is. This pale, small man seems so different from the man that kept chattering away in our kitchen only two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago it was an ordinary day. It was Saturday-morning. I had been working late on Friday and it had been late when I came home. Vince was already asleep. I was too tired to think of anything, just stripped the clothes I was wearing and joined him. I wrapped my body around him and fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up late the following morning and Vince had already left the bed. Not long ago thought since his side of the bed was still warm. I got up and found him in the kitchen making breakfest.
"Sleepyhead...", he said and ruffled my hair. "He is finally awake... come here. I waited for AGES for you to wake up. Then I just couldn't lie around anymore even with you beside me... I didn't have the heart to wake you up, you looked so cute and peaceful while sleeping, almost innocent..." The grin on his face when he took me into his arms and hugged told me that I am far from innocent.
I had been working very hard the last week and we had hardly had any time for each other. It was heavenly to think that for two whole days I could concentrate on him only. I pulled away from him and kissed him - lingeringly for minutes it seemed - until we pulled apart being a little more than breathless.
"As much as I hate to break away from THAT kiss, my-God-Stuart, I don't think we have kissed like that in days... yeah... coffee is on it's way. And I'll have to pop around to the corner shop and get some croissants. We don't have ANY fresh bread around the house."
"Well it is your job to keep us stocked up on the groceries. Don't be long." I smiled at him, then pulled him back to me, kissed him again and let my hands wonder lower and grabbed his arse. "Hmmm... I can't seem to remember the last time I had the chance to do that. Those fucking idiot japs and their unreasonable demands. When this case is over I'm having a holiday and I'll take you somewhere nice", I murmured to Vince's ear.
"You always say that and then other clients appear from somewhere with yet more unreasonable demands. Besides you love your clients and their unreasonable demands. It makes you who you are."
"I guess so. Well go and get the croissants, I'm starving." I pushed him lightly away from me, and ushered him out the door. "The sooner you're back the sooner I'll have the pleasure to get re-acquinted with that lovely arse of yours", I said and smiled at him. "I'll hold to that", he said and kissed me yet once again on the doorstep.
Vince left. It would only take him ten minutes to go to the bakery and back. Meanwhile I took a cup of coffee, sat down and read the paper. There was something interesting in it and it took my attention. I remember looking up from the paper at the clock. Twentyfive minutes had passed. 'What's happended to Vince, picking up those croissants can't take that long. I'll bet he is still talking to that salesgirl there. Now what are the chances that two of the world's biggest Dr. Who –fans reside within the same block', I laughed to myself and picked up the phone to call Vince to hurry up. I hit the speeddial and let it ring.
"Piib-piib-piib..." Of course, he hasn't got his mobile with him. I threw the phone down and went to the window to see if he was coming back. No Vince, just people walking up and down the street.
We had moved to this house two years ago when we came back to England. There is a garden in the back and steps in the front leading to our place. The house is in three floors. Living room and kitchen in the first floor, bedrooms in the second. Then there is the top floor which we decorated as our own little world. There is a really soft bed and soffas up there, Vince's video-collection and an entertainment center. We often go there when we want to spend time with just the two of us. Vince will want to watch Dr. Who, I will complain and pretend to hate it. Vince will put it on anyway, then join me on the soffa and we will watch the Dr. and spend couple of lovely hours joined in a hug on the soffa.
The house isn't huge. It is nothing like my earlier apartments. This one is decorated with warm colours and soft materials. Vince's handprint is everywhere here. We had so much fun picking up all the things for the house after we came back to England. We were building a life together. And it felt right. A place to settle down and stop. If someone would have said to me three years ago that you are going to be the happiest person in the world for owning a typical English house with a garden, have a boyfriend and be totally happy about it I would have laughed out aloud and it would have been heard all around, even across the pond. But there I was – and am, three years later – being perfectly happy with a boyfriend and a house. So settled down and a model citizen that someone could – for heavens sake - describe me with a word like responsible. Don't worry thought, there is still the old wicked Stuart in me. He didn't go anywhere, he just changed a bit, softened and in the process became perhaps even more lovely and lovable. At least a bit more easy to love anyway. I love this house. And I love Vince.
"Now where is that Vince?" I say aloud. There is a sound of ambulance outside...
Vince came. He came after me that day and saved me from myself. I understand it now completely. I understand the meaning this man has had in my life and the remarkable change he created in me. Instead of letting me run away to London he made me face all the things I was running away from for so long. Intimacy, love, myself. He came and he stopped me - while moving across the world. If he hadn't... I don't know. I guess I would have kept on running in London the way I had been running in Manchester and eventually would have been stopped - by drugs, by some nameless shag or by the insanity and emptiness of the lifestyle I would have been leading without him. Without him I would have lived it loud, shagged away and pretended to think that it was all I ever wanted. The truth is that without Vince it would have become old pretty soon. The insane life-style would have burned me down slowly but surely. I wouldn't have propably noticed the change in me since Vince wouldn't have been there keeping me in line and pointing it out to me. Vince propably thinks he didn't have any hold on me on the crazy years but he always did.
Today I sit beside a hospital bed and look at my love who is sleeping unconsiously. So many wires are attached to him that I can't count them. He is pale and looks so fragile. The sound of the respirator has become almost a soothing sound to me. Every time it pumps air into Vince's lungs it means that he is still with me at least a few moments longer. The reality of the situation that the machine hissing next to Vince is the only thing keeping us together makes me feel sheer terror. I feel so helpless, there is absolutely nothing I can do except hope and pray. On the moments when I can think more clearly I understand that now is the time for me to save Vince. It is time for me to be strong for him and make him heal and come back to me. The nurses keep saying that it is possible that Vince feels my presence even thought he is so quiet and so unresponsive. So unlike everything that he is. This pale, small man seems so different from the man that kept chattering away in our kitchen only two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago it was an ordinary day. It was Saturday-morning. I had been working late on Friday and it had been late when I came home. Vince was already asleep. I was too tired to think of anything, just stripped the clothes I was wearing and joined him. I wrapped my body around him and fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up late the following morning and Vince had already left the bed. Not long ago thought since his side of the bed was still warm. I got up and found him in the kitchen making breakfest.
"Sleepyhead...", he said and ruffled my hair. "He is finally awake... come here. I waited for AGES for you to wake up. Then I just couldn't lie around anymore even with you beside me... I didn't have the heart to wake you up, you looked so cute and peaceful while sleeping, almost innocent..." The grin on his face when he took me into his arms and hugged told me that I am far from innocent.
I had been working very hard the last week and we had hardly had any time for each other. It was heavenly to think that for two whole days I could concentrate on him only. I pulled away from him and kissed him - lingeringly for minutes it seemed - until we pulled apart being a little more than breathless.
"As much as I hate to break away from THAT kiss, my-God-Stuart, I don't think we have kissed like that in days... yeah... coffee is on it's way. And I'll have to pop around to the corner shop and get some croissants. We don't have ANY fresh bread around the house."
"Well it is your job to keep us stocked up on the groceries. Don't be long." I smiled at him, then pulled him back to me, kissed him again and let my hands wonder lower and grabbed his arse. "Hmmm... I can't seem to remember the last time I had the chance to do that. Those fucking idiot japs and their unreasonable demands. When this case is over I'm having a holiday and I'll take you somewhere nice", I murmured to Vince's ear.
"You always say that and then other clients appear from somewhere with yet more unreasonable demands. Besides you love your clients and their unreasonable demands. It makes you who you are."
"I guess so. Well go and get the croissants, I'm starving." I pushed him lightly away from me, and ushered him out the door. "The sooner you're back the sooner I'll have the pleasure to get re-acquinted with that lovely arse of yours", I said and smiled at him. "I'll hold to that", he said and kissed me yet once again on the doorstep.
Vince left. It would only take him ten minutes to go to the bakery and back. Meanwhile I took a cup of coffee, sat down and read the paper. There was something interesting in it and it took my attention. I remember looking up from the paper at the clock. Twentyfive minutes had passed. 'What's happended to Vince, picking up those croissants can't take that long. I'll bet he is still talking to that salesgirl there. Now what are the chances that two of the world's biggest Dr. Who –fans reside within the same block', I laughed to myself and picked up the phone to call Vince to hurry up. I hit the speeddial and let it ring.
"Piib-piib-piib..." Of course, he hasn't got his mobile with him. I threw the phone down and went to the window to see if he was coming back. No Vince, just people walking up and down the street.
We had moved to this house two years ago when we came back to England. There is a garden in the back and steps in the front leading to our place. The house is in three floors. Living room and kitchen in the first floor, bedrooms in the second. Then there is the top floor which we decorated as our own little world. There is a really soft bed and soffas up there, Vince's video-collection and an entertainment center. We often go there when we want to spend time with just the two of us. Vince will want to watch Dr. Who, I will complain and pretend to hate it. Vince will put it on anyway, then join me on the soffa and we will watch the Dr. and spend couple of lovely hours joined in a hug on the soffa.
The house isn't huge. It is nothing like my earlier apartments. This one is decorated with warm colours and soft materials. Vince's handprint is everywhere here. We had so much fun picking up all the things for the house after we came back to England. We were building a life together. And it felt right. A place to settle down and stop. If someone would have said to me three years ago that you are going to be the happiest person in the world for owning a typical English house with a garden, have a boyfriend and be totally happy about it I would have laughed out aloud and it would have been heard all around, even across the pond. But there I was – and am, three years later – being perfectly happy with a boyfriend and a house. So settled down and a model citizen that someone could – for heavens sake - describe me with a word like responsible. Don't worry thought, there is still the old wicked Stuart in me. He didn't go anywhere, he just changed a bit, softened and in the process became perhaps even more lovely and lovable. At least a bit more easy to love anyway. I love this house. And I love Vince.
"Now where is that Vince?" I say aloud. There is a sound of ambulance outside...