UNCONDITIONAL

INCOMMUNICADO

She wanted so badly to hate and tried. He had, of course, lied to others, so they bolstered her in her campaign of dismissal. She couldn't hide the log bobbing beneath the surface. Her eyes, her longing, her everything betrayed her. And so he had no other option. He fell, it seemed like forever.

       Now, he could not wait to spend five wordless minutes in her presence, while she spent those minutes busy in any diversion. Wanting, pleading with her heart and mind to hate him. To forget him. "Oh my God" he whispered "I love her completely", so much in fact he would stand alone in the face of the thing he feared more than anything in the world. Rejection.

For weeks she had circled him, a boxer in a ring, sometimes advancing, testing his determination and then withdrawing. Occasionally coming in too close for even her strength of will. Then she would be tangled up in his arms much like two boxers, exhausted from the constant fight lean on one another in the late rounds, no longer punching out. Two bloodied and tired lovers holding tight for a respite, lest they quit the fight altogether. Again, revived by the bell, a wave of encouragement from her respective corner and she was swinging again. Fighting against the invisible force emanating from him, tempting, almost willing her to quit the hostilities and try it once again as a pair.

         Yes, they were once a pair, strong and inseparable. They fought the world together, back to back, the one leaning on the other when the tumult was too great. He had done it though, the unthinkable. He had, without intent, allowed a vicious blow to come screaming through his defenses to crush her spirit. And So, she turned, and pursued the fight with him with the rest of the complainants. She had even invited hostility's from others to avenge her injured spirit.

         He fought them all. He even fought the offending hurt which brought her so much pain. He did not recognize the blow initially, but oh he knew it now. So, he fought them, hoping that she would see that the only reason he fought, the single impetus behind his wild desire to stay in the fray, was her. It is an honorable thing to fight for love. To sue for restoration of the injured. It is also at times necessary to quit the fight and kneel unarmed in the face of overwhelming and unchecked adversaries, and receive the compliment of angry blows. Why, A sadist? I think not. No one enjoys pain, anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is in search of attention, and will take it, even if there is pain attached.

         No, you take the brunt, because sometimes it's to much to face. The hope is that a few mob driven participants will be satiated after a few unchallenged shots, drop there hands to their sides, and breathless, give up the fight, thinking that the veracity of the throng may have at last exceeded the fault.

Everyone is a villain in someone's story.