Chapter of Life

And as she stared at him, feeling numb, her face showing nothing, one betraying tear slid down her cheek.  She vowed this would be the only tear she would shed for her man.  She looked down at the table as the tear detached itself from her beautifully made-up face and plopped heavily onto the back of her hand.  Wondering if he’d seen it and surveying the half eaten meal and in this moment it suddenly became important to her that this food was about to be wasted and she always hated to waste food, especially in this restaurant.  She normally gave all her scraps to her dog to ease her guilt!

As she searched for some space in her head to form a cognitive thought (he was now pressing her with another “Angie, say something, please”) her mind just continued to fill with thought after thought; vivid memories piling in and a sea of confusion loudly crashing against the rocks of her own perceived security.  Overwhelmed and feeling out of control she thought, “This is it; I’m having my nervous breakdown.”  Still searching for a meaningful answer or some words at least, which could in this moment convey the utter disappointment she was feeling, words which stood a hope of even beginning to articulate the choking shock he’d just delivered.   She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  “Angie, please”, he pressed. Instead a thousand noises, none of them coherent were all conversing in her mad-making head.

“No.”

“What?  Who was that:”

“No, this is not a nervous breakdown.”

A loud, unquestionable voice from deep within her belly resounded through her tiny frame and shook her into lucidity.  She questioned again.

“What is it then if it’s not a breakdown? This isn’t anger, it doesn’t feel like anger and it certainly isn’t sadness. I know sadness, like when Jessie died.  14 years we had Jessie – now, there was loyalty, not like this prick.”

“Rage.”

On hearing the word “rage”, she simultaneously felt its resonance ripple and then shudder through her like an earthquake.  Something was happening beyond her control.

The prick looked on expectantly.

In a trance she stood, and in one graceful movement, quietly slid her chair back using the backs of her silken legs and as she rose, catching her napkin in her left hand and gently placing it down on the table, she became aware that she was smiling inside. In one stride, she was at his side and grabbing a handful of his hair until his head tilted back. Angie, in all her power, kissed him hard on the mouth, plunging her tongue into the back of his throat, motivated only by her rage.  She pulled away so she could see the stunned stupor of his expression; the same expression he had provoked in her less than five minutes ago and yanked his head back so hard that the momentum took his chair over, toppling him to the floor, napkin ‘n all! 

“Angie, stop! What the f...., talk to me.  We can’t end it like this”

She stood over him and felt such pity for this man, her man.  Her mind still racing and her heart still loving him so much that all she could say was,

“Pride comes before a fall Marcus.”

With that she turned, grabbed her bag and jacket from the back of her chair and was out the door. Rage dissipating now, her feelings turning into flooding sadness, the kind that rips you apart as the pain sets in.  She started to run and didn’t stop until the heel on her favourite Gucci’s broke clean off.  

“Pride comes before a fall Angie!”