From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter Thirteen

The day after, I tried to get the most out of Amy. I tried to talk to her about the most random topics at first. How global warming was a serious case and still some people are ignoring such a severe situation. She listened to me and only replied with multiple hums every time I paused. I tried to talk then about some of the newly released songs of our favorite singers. Another hum. I tried to talk politics even though I don't know much about this stuff. Again she hummed in response to whatever I said. I knew well she was tired and frustrated by the situation she was in, but I never knew why from me as well. We were both on the same boat after all. I know she was the one with the greater loss and she was the one hurting most but we were in this together we always were and always will be. I didn't know how she couldn't see that anymore but we were always together in all the ups and downs of our roller coaster of a marriage. I'd cross the end of the world and back again just to find a solution and fix what's been broken. Only if I knew a way. That morning at breakfast, I wanted to prepare Amy's food and help her eat like I have been doing every other day. She insisted, nonetheless, to do it herself. Which was a bad idea. She used the knife to slice an apple while doing so she accidentally hurt herself. Seeing her wince, I hurried toward her to make sure everything was fine. The cut on her finger was small but seemed big enough to hurt her though. Her hands were quivering but her face was held still as if showing any trace of emotion would hurt her more. But it was not really the case. Amy didn't want to show any trace of emotion in front of me. "There, let me just take care of this," I searched for any piece of cloth or a towel to wrap around her hand which surprisingly started to bleed a bit too heavily for a small cut. When I couldn't find any I used my tee shirt instead. "Travis, just let go, I don't need this," She said through gritted teeth trying to pull her hand away. "I can't let go, you're hurt," I said back and my words held so much deeper meaning to them. A meaning we both understood. But the only problem was that Amy didn't fully see it the way I did at that time. I couldn't and wouldn't dare think of letting go, not of her hand but of her as a whole. Amy was and forever will be my home, my only safe heaven and I could repeat this over and over to every single person I know until they get the idea. She is the reason for every single beat of my heart. Without her I'm nothing. Without her, I'm an exile. She is my home and for her, I'll always be grateful. She's worth the fight, she's worth the pain, she's worth any unpleasant moment spent just to see her face at the end. She keeps me strong when I can't carry on. She keeps me safe when I'm distressed. She keeps me alive when I'm no longer hopeful. She is my savior and to me, she will always be safe heaven.

"Stop pitying me," Her face was still straight and emotionless but her voice broke as she spoke. "Honey, I'm not—"

Yes, you are, Travis," She pressed; but I wasn't helping her out of pity. It never was this way. "You are pitying me just like everyone else. Maybe I can't see it but I can sense it. I was only trying to get used to my supposedly temporary blindness, and I swallowed your pity for so long now. But I don't want it to be this way anymore. Leave me alone, all of you. Let me be and stop helping me in every single thing like a helpless kid because I am not that. And I'm sick of you all, you only make me feel worse about myself and I can't bear it anymore. You're becoming too much of a pressure, Travis." Her last words left me struck and speechless. Too much of a pressure, she had said. "I never meant for it to be that way, I never knew that was the way you feel," I spoke slowly with a tint of a shame actually. "Well, now you know! What are you going to do about it? I just want you to leave me alone and let me be," Now tears were starting to fall from her eyes, and every drop that ran down her cheek, squeezed at my heart harder making it nearly impossible for me to properly breathe. "I am not pitying you, we're a team, Amy. We're on the same boat," It was my voice that broke this time. "We're not on the same boat anymore, Travis. When did you become blind can't you see that we're in two different situations here?" She moved her hand back and forth between us rapidly and her cheeks turned red from anger. "We're not a team anymore." She spoke the words with her eyes cast downward and at that moment I wanted so badly to look into her eyes to see what was really inside of them. To try to see a glimpse of the mess that was running in her heart. The dark thoughts that consumed her. With a sniff, she wiped some of her tears that were still falling and pulled her hand from my bloody tee-shirt and left. I was silent and lost not knowing what to do. For minutes I stayed like this until I heard her slam the door of our bedroom. I realized it took her really long to reach the room. She required help and I bet she knew she needed that help. But how can I help her without making her feel helpless or dependent? In no way was I pitying her. Amy was strong and I, out of all people, knew that. But don't we all have moments of weaknesses sometimes? What was wrong with asking for help? What's wrong with being helpless for some time? We are not made of steel we are humans. We fall down, we break, we change, and sometimes we don't get back up. But my Amy would get back up, that I knew. Even on her own, I knew by heart she will get through this, with or without her sight. Even if she won't be able to paint anymore. Painting was not what made Amy special but it was she who gave painting a meaning. It was her who brought colors to life. It was her who would create a whole world on plain canvas. She was grace. She was art, she was life. She was and still is all of that. I threw my shirt on the floor when Peanut gave me a scolding look that said, "Look what you've done now," and walked away. Again for the millionth time, I didn't know what to do with Amy. It was a foreign feeling that kept haunting me lately. I never had to think twice when it came to Amy but since the accident, a million consideration for every single thing that came to my mind was not even enough. It was somehow like we don't know each other anymore. Like we're not a team anymore. I thought the thing that broke was something inside of Amy that I maybe could fix. But truly what had been broken was something between us. It was harder to fix than I had thought. I was tired of thinking and tired of all the housework I've been doing lately. I was frustrated by having to think every action through before doing anything. I was upset about seeing my wife consumed by sorrow. I felt lonely all of a sudden and for the first time I regretted not holding on to my school and college friends. I let the days take them away from me as we drifted apart from each other. I let my work take me away from them like I've been doing with Amy since our marriage. The weight of a mountain was on my shoulders like a burden that would never go. I called my mum to tell her I'm not coming to work and tried to make up a lie about me being sick but she caught it. "What's bothering you, sweetie?" Her voice was caring in a way that somehow soothed me more than I expected. I told her what had happed as I sat at the kitchen table with my head in my hand feeling more anguish by the moment. After I spilled it all out my mum remained silent on the other side of the line and I knew she was thinking her words through before speaking. "I can't seem to find the way out this time, mum," I added before she could speak. I remember how I always tell my mum that Amy and I always find our way out of every fight or obstacle between us. This time, however, seemed bigger than the both of us. "Can you just breathe?" When mum said that I realized how uneven my breathing was and tried to take deep breaths. "You know how sensitive Amy is, it's not her fault. She's hurt and we were too pushy. All of us, dear, it's not just about you."