Men, Brawls And… Nothingness.

Sunday Prayers

Sunday Prayers (Photo credit: Steven Leith)

This unfortunate incident happened late last year and anytime I think about it, tears usually welled up in my eyes.

It was a Sunday morning, we were sleeping soundly when I heard a loud banging at the door, still in my sleepy state I leapt up from the bed but before dashing downstairs my husband caught the tip of my dressing gown.

”Where on earth do you think you’re going,” he asked with a frown before standing up, then he released my dressing gown.

”I heard a loud banging and I decided to check who was at the door,” I explained with a yawn and that was when we checked the wall clock. It was a few minutes after six in the morning. I crawled back into bed, grateful for a strong man in the house but some  days were just horrible.

Seconds later, I heard a man talking rather loudly downstairs but my husband was trying to pacify the caller. It was obvious my beautiful sleep had been abruptly terminated for the day so I decided to check who the unreasonable caller was.

I slipped into my slippers and padded downstairs and then I saw him. He was fuming and gesticulating with his hands, the only words I heard was this,

”I have sent her packing out of my house,”

I hissed and went back to my room shaking with what I surmised must have happened and my heart went out to my friend and I could just picture her tear-stained face. Her beautiful, clear skin marred with mud and blood, her finger nails cracked, her heart-broken into a million fragments. And I offered a prayer for her safety.

The caller was a violent egocentric maniac whose wife was a very good friend of mine. She was very secretive, evasive about the bruises, when I asked she never could explain why she kept falling on the stairs every week, was she blind? And the babies? The miscarriages, the constant admissions, scans, the endless sorrow but she is free at last, safe from the beast in human form, safe from the fear, safe from the heat and the fury.

He is empty, worthless than a speck, and he is in a prison of his own madness.

What can I say? My friend is free from the brawls, and from that emptiness of a marriage. I believe in everlasting love, a love without fear, without sorrow…