When Did That Happen? – by Tracey Smith

I awoke this morning, long before the sun was anywhere near the horizon.  My bedroom was full of thought and air bubbles, all the colour of grey slate and my mind was as full as the lungs in the birds who were starting their morning calls.  I usually sleep well and long and I wondered, why that had happened?

I thought back to you.

I tried hard to remember when I felt the first pulls of love towards you, then back further still to when we’d had the first conversation where I’d watched your face but not heard your words, because my heart had been captured in the net of your presence; when did that happen?

What day did we set foot in the house that we converted into a home, filling our nest with sticks and fabric and things.  Creating laughter and love there like no other before us; when did that happen?

I eventually left for the church, my father by my side, you in your smart suit, our words all prepared, our friends a-gathered, the sun up, the rain withheld and the hedgerow bursting with summer foods; what time did it happen?

When came the night, the first night that I lay in slumber and felt the baby inside me tumble and turn.  You’d have pressed to feel it too, I recall tears, I’m so sure I do; when did that happen?

The birth years passed and the hands on the watch spun their circles and life changed.  It did what it does, we evolved and found our paths and I panged with realisation that we weren’t on the same ones.  I try so hard, but cannot remember when that happened.

The hand-holds lessened, the kisses became snatched and hard with pursed lips.  Longing for time at your side in our bed reversed and I ached for solitary time instead.  Somehow, it was easier to sit alongside loneliness alone; why did that happen?

I faced myself in the bathroom mirror and tear-laden eyes stared back at me, my tattered heart continued to pound, seeking a route out of my chest and an accompanying pulse rushed through my ears, blood and despair coursed through me. You were killing me slowly from the inside out; how had I let that happen?

Another anniversary approached and passed and my reasons for smiling had lessened.  My brave face was daily make up, my resolve grew stronger, my patience thinner.  The anger I’d directed towards myself had finally been replaced with deeply sad resignation as I packed a suitcase in my mind, preparing to leave for the final time; exactly what day did that happen?

The moment arrived, the words were uttered, voices raised, reasons laid out, every one of them seemingly limp in isolation, but collectively they wore heavy around my soul.  Retorts were rebounded, cutting injuries were inflicted by callous tongues and the life blood was spilled.  I stood in the doorway at the end of our end and you asked if I had everything I needed; how on earth had we let that happen?

I walked away ascending the physical and mental hill towards the alpine strawberries and into a new life.  Each step taken lightened my load, each stride forward put more distance between us but the elastic band that encircled our hearts stretched tighter and as I closed the car door on my final departure, the thread finally snapped; it was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.

Now I’m in pastures and arms new and the lessons have been heeded. Laughter flows freely and love is given and received in equal proportion on the same tide.  My mortality has been terminally pricked and the days seem to tick by with a quickened pace.  The very hours themselves hold a greater importance, conversations are more poignant, missions more urgent, the company I keep more selective and significant and my time is more precious than ever.  I will strive to fill my last days with people and moments that content my soul and will embrace them as they happen again and again.

I call to the divine Universe in its highest and state with humility and an open heart, that I shall do all that is humanly possible to ensure, it never, ever, happens again.