All the King's Horses
I had this obsession with Humpty Dumpty when I was a little girl. It was the first thing I ever read all by myself. No help from Mom or Dad. It was in this book of nursery rhymes that my grandmother gave me the Christmas that I was five. I was so excited to have my very own book that I opened it up and decided to read the first story I found. The pages fell open to Humpty Dumpty. It took me five hours to read it right. But once I did, I was unstoppable. The book went everywhere with me that year. Any willing ear got my rendition of Humpty Dumpty. The Christmas that I was six I got a Humpty Dumpty doll. I named it Ms. Humpty. If only I would have known then what I know now.
My father was gone by the Christmas that I was seven. No Humpty gifts under the tree for me that year. There wasn't a tree at all that year. When my father left us, my mom fell apart. I was left to pick up the pieces. She refused to get out of bed the first week. I begged and pleaded with her, but she refused. I would bring her cereal and peanut butter sandwiches and force her to eat. One time when I was pleading with her to get out of bed, she whispered "I can't. I'm broken." I didn't really understand what she meant by that, but something unknown caused me to put Ms. Humpty away in a secret spot under my bed. I stopped carrying the book around with me too.
My mother eventually got better. One morning I woke up and there she was, making breakfast in the kitchen. She just smiled and said that she'd found her pieces. I was her glue, she said. Sometimes though, when I was lying in bed looking at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling, I could hear her crying. At those times, I'd reach under my bed and get Ms. Humpty from her secret hiding spot. I would hold her close to me and recite the words to that fateful nursery rhyme. Sometimes I'd do it for hours letting my voice drown out the sound of my mothers sobs, but in the morning Ms. Humpty always went back into hiding.
Until today, I'd forgotten about Ms. Humpty. I remembered when he came tonight. When he left me. He tapped at my window, like he always did. I smiled and let him in. As I reached out for him, he pulled me to him and crushed his lips to mine. He'd never kissed me like that before, with such urgency and passion and tenderness. The chaos of emotions flooded my head, my soul. He stepped back and the haze subsided. Then he spoke the four words that shattered my soul. He looked straight at me and said, "We can't be together." It's not like we hadn't done this before. We had, but there was something different in his eyes tonight. I think it was defeat. At that moment, I thought of Ms. Humpty and I laughed. I laughed so hard that I fell to the floor. It didn't hurt like it should have, and I laughed even harder. I laughed because I understood. But he didn't and now he never would. He looked at me with confusion as my laughter became hysterical, and as I was laughing he turned around, said good-bye and slipped out the window.
He's been gone around an hour now, and I'm still in the same place I was when he left. I reach under the bed and pull out Ms. Humpty from her secret place and look at her. Some primal urge takes over me, and I throw her across my room. She makes a resounding thud against my wall. I don't know what it was that made me do that. No. That's a lie. At that moment, I looked at her, at what she represents, and I saw myself. Broken. When he slipped out my window, it was his silent admission of his refusal to fight for us. I broke at that moment. The last piece of my heart that was steadfastly holding me together fell away, and I crumbled. I think that if I looked hard enough I could find shards of myself all over my floor. Maybe I could put myself back together again. I contemplate the possibility but quickly resign myself to the impossibility of it. Even if I tried, I'd never find all the pieces. I know I could never be whole again. When he left, he took a piece of me with him. I don't want it back. Knowing that he holds a fragment of my soul gives me some solace.
I sigh and walk over to Ms. Humpty's resting spot. Bending over, I pick her up and gently cradle her in my arms. It's my silent apology to her. I slowly lie down on my bed, still holding her to me. Tears fall down my cheeks. I think my heart must be bleeding. As I look up at the glow in the dark stars still stuck to my ceiling, I begin to do what I used to all those years ago. The voice is somehow not my own and I listen to it recite "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty together again."
I had this obsession with Humpty Dumpty when I was a little girl. It was the first thing I ever read all by myself. No help from Mom or Dad. It was in this book of nursery rhymes that my grandmother gave me the Christmas that I was five. I was so excited to have my very own book that I opened it up and decided to read the first story I found. The pages fell open to Humpty Dumpty. It took me five hours to read it right. But once I did, I was unstoppable. The book went everywhere with me that year. Any willing ear got my rendition of Humpty Dumpty. The Christmas that I was six I got a Humpty Dumpty doll. I named it Ms. Humpty. If only I would have known then what I know now.
My father was gone by the Christmas that I was seven. No Humpty gifts under the tree for me that year. There wasn't a tree at all that year. When my father left us, my mom fell apart. I was left to pick up the pieces. She refused to get out of bed the first week. I begged and pleaded with her, but she refused. I would bring her cereal and peanut butter sandwiches and force her to eat. One time when I was pleading with her to get out of bed, she whispered "I can't. I'm broken." I didn't really understand what she meant by that, but something unknown caused me to put Ms. Humpty away in a secret spot under my bed. I stopped carrying the book around with me too.
My mother eventually got better. One morning I woke up and there she was, making breakfast in the kitchen. She just smiled and said that she'd found her pieces. I was her glue, she said. Sometimes though, when I was lying in bed looking at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling, I could hear her crying. At those times, I'd reach under my bed and get Ms. Humpty from her secret hiding spot. I would hold her close to me and recite the words to that fateful nursery rhyme. Sometimes I'd do it for hours letting my voice drown out the sound of my mothers sobs, but in the morning Ms. Humpty always went back into hiding.
Until today, I'd forgotten about Ms. Humpty. I remembered when he came tonight. When he left me. He tapped at my window, like he always did. I smiled and let him in. As I reached out for him, he pulled me to him and crushed his lips to mine. He'd never kissed me like that before, with such urgency and passion and tenderness. The chaos of emotions flooded my head, my soul. He stepped back and the haze subsided. Then he spoke the four words that shattered my soul. He looked straight at me and said, "We can't be together." It's not like we hadn't done this before. We had, but there was something different in his eyes tonight. I think it was defeat. At that moment, I thought of Ms. Humpty and I laughed. I laughed so hard that I fell to the floor. It didn't hurt like it should have, and I laughed even harder. I laughed because I understood. But he didn't and now he never would. He looked at me with confusion as my laughter became hysterical, and as I was laughing he turned around, said good-bye and slipped out the window.
He's been gone around an hour now, and I'm still in the same place I was when he left. I reach under the bed and pull out Ms. Humpty from her secret place and look at her. Some primal urge takes over me, and I throw her across my room. She makes a resounding thud against my wall. I don't know what it was that made me do that. No. That's a lie. At that moment, I looked at her, at what she represents, and I saw myself. Broken. When he slipped out my window, it was his silent admission of his refusal to fight for us. I broke at that moment. The last piece of my heart that was steadfastly holding me together fell away, and I crumbled. I think that if I looked hard enough I could find shards of myself all over my floor. Maybe I could put myself back together again. I contemplate the possibility but quickly resign myself to the impossibility of it. Even if I tried, I'd never find all the pieces. I know I could never be whole again. When he left, he took a piece of me with him. I don't want it back. Knowing that he holds a fragment of my soul gives me some solace.
I sigh and walk over to Ms. Humpty's resting spot. Bending over, I pick her up and gently cradle her in my arms. It's my silent apology to her. I slowly lie down on my bed, still holding her to me. Tears fall down my cheeks. I think my heart must be bleeding. As I look up at the glow in the dark stars still stuck to my ceiling, I begin to do what I used to all those years ago. The voice is somehow not my own and I listen to it recite "Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty together again."