Musings Of A Woman In Love

My whole life I have been dealt with the wrong end of the stick and I have come to expect that I will never get what I truly want; even then of I get it, it would probably be over my dead, cold and lifeless body. Life is funny that way, one moment you are living it up, having the time of your life, the next you are surrounded by your worst nightmares. For those who are strong, they fight back; they gain a sense of morality and achievement, that they beat it and came away a better person for the experience. However, there are others who are not so fortunate and they drown in the darkness and silence that surrounds their hearts, never relinquishing its hold on your conscious, constantly keeping you in a state of death and delusion that never shows you the way out.

Little is known about why we are sometimes thrust into a world that we cannot thrive and survive in. Many say that it is a test to prove whether we are worthy or not of the peace that will greet us in the afterlife. Others say that it is what it is and to live everyday as it comes and never regret the decisions you make.

As I said before, my life has never been one filled with champagne and caviar, but it has been one filled with love, loss and sometimes-unbearable truths. It all started for me when I worked as a DNA analyst with Miami Dade Police Department, I was assigned to go over all the cold cases and rerun any DNA evidence to make sure that the case was still as it was when the suspect was first charged, however many years ago. Unfortunately, for me things were never the same after that.

It was just like any other day, except that day, the day shift CSI’s were due back from leave after the lab was destroyed a few months ago. She walked into the lobby and looked so beautiful, decked out in a white shirt and grey pants. My eyes couldn’t seem to leave as she strode confidently for the elevator and towards me, making me wonder if it was all a dream.

Then she spoke. That aside from her physical beauty drew to me to her, that accent of hers could warm the coldest of hearts and I have to say it melted mine. Within seconds, I was mush my legs barely able to keep me upright as she started talking. Get this, I didn’t even know her name, just recognised her from the files the Feds gave me, before the whole undercover mole scenario.

Anyway, back to the woman who stole my heart, with but one smile?

She has that air about her, where you can’t help but feel what she is feeling, if she is angry then you are going to be angry, if she is annoyed well then you better get ready to be annoyed. Though the one thing I always find calming about her is the fact that she can hide behind her professional mask and deal with the horrors she sees everyday and still come back into work the next morning as if the whole world is full of sunshine and daisy’s, not a care in the world just as long as that State wide luminous smile is on her face, she can’t be beaten.

How is it that she can, no matter what sort of day I have had, she can without fail distract me and provide me with a reason to come back to work and repeat the whole process again. Just so, I can hear her say my name in her Southern drawl, which by the way sends shivers down my spine every time, no joke. That accent got me good on the first day we met and it continues to do so every time we talk or say hello in passing, it consistently produces the same reaction without fail.

Now I have never been one for Religion, but there is something about the way she looks when we sat at Officer Jessop’s funeral, something about the way, that simple yet elegantly beautiful silver cross sits, resting delicately around her neck, reflecting off the sunlight and giving her a more heavenly glow as the sunlight bounces off her hair making it appear as if she had a halo 3 inches above her head and that wings were about to sprout out of her back. Its funny how she can make one the more depressing aspects of human life, seem not so depressing. What I mean is that she can stand there decked out in all black, light make up on, with a single piece of jewellery and still manage to look as if she had just stepped off the catwalk and was ready to jet off to some hot Caribbean island for her next photo shoot. No matter who approached her that afternoon, 5 minutes talking with her and she had you smiling, laughing and remembering the good times instead of being like a stuck record, not being able to move forward into the next line of life, but clinging to the same one over and over, hoping against hope that if you cling long enough that someone would listen and give you back the thing you love. A fallen Angel in disguise.