The Woman Within The Mirror
Prologue
One year, 356 days since that old house went up in flames killing two people I came to care about. I did realize not even now how close I came to bringing them into my life just as things began to feel normal again. The feeling though was taken from me, like a cosmic flash. Yet sitting here on this bench that Queen Juana must have sat on waiting for the birds to come and take her away watching my beautiful blonde little girl play. Pretending to play hoping that if she jumped enough her arms would take flight. Watching this I realized that that feeling I thought was taken from me after losing everything really never left me at all. The fact was with Juana my little angel I felt normal as if Manuel never passed on or anything.
I smiled seeing Juana's face looking at mine with such enjoyment which brought a joy I thought I could never feel again. Though within my own heart I was sad, sadness I never wanted to admit never wanted to acknowledge that I was torn up about Manuel's death, something I often tell her about to keep his memory alive for her. I see myself in her even though I was quite older than her when my parents passed well her grandparents went to heaven in the way she handles this. Every Sunday she begs for us attend mass which I have got to say I had not been to since the fire. Something just did not feel right stepping over the threshold of my old boarding school chapel and kneeling down within a pew. I kept my religion, I was still a devote catholic bringing a proper child up within the eyes of the church.
Now I see after having my own child how Juana must have felt bringing her children up. The love and spirit she gave to each of her children as well as her husband, Philippe. I see firsthand what Charles could never take from his mother Juana, the love for her children the same love I have for my little Juana.
At eighteen, I never felt so happy and yet so strangely sad that feeling I adhire to as I lead Juana into Manuel's old apartment. After the fire, I had a lot of time to think with only eight months within my pregnancy left when I arrived there. Isis was amazing she welcomed me with open arms and Juana. Within those months Isis helped me come to the conclusion that a part of me needed to keep this place. To remind myself that I was…that Manuel made me happy and I could not just let that go. I cannot even begin to say how much I love her for all of the wonderful things she did for me in those months even now as I gulp taking a deep breath looking around the room. Everything was as Manuel and I left it.
The red velvet dress, still lying upon the tan sofa was Manuel left it. I sighed walking into the kitchen emptying the refrigerator as Juana jumped upon that tan sofa grabbing the Televison remote off the coffee table turning it on. I never took notice to how tiny the living room actually was. The loft I purchased in Manhattan was larger than this. It wows me at all the things that happened within this tiny room. Hard to believe now I lost my virginity here to a man I, at the time, had no earthly clue what to do with nor the constant craving I had to rid myself of the issue at hand, my parents.
This is when I miss him; the moments I have to make myself want words to be enough. To watch Juana grow up being the little smarty that she already is, watching her now as she so patently watches Zoboomafoo. It saddens me to have to see all these precious times in her life not be seen with Manuel. In this moment I realized the thing I did not truly ever want to admit. I actually love Manuel. It's funny to me how for so long I denied any part of loving him and now I want nothing more than to love him. Is it wrong though…to love a dead man so passionately-so unconventionally?
