I was fighting life and she wasn’t there. I was swinging and brawling and I couldn’t hear her cheering me on, cause she wasn’t there. I was taking hits, my jaw was crushed, my ribs were cracked, I reached out for her but she wasn’t there. I fell hard. I fell so hard I bounced twice before life kicked me one more time and said stay the fuck down.
With my right hand I wiped the blood and gravel from my eyes. I searched the crowd watching me die but she wasn’t there. With my left hand I felt for the ropes to pull myself out of the ring but all I found was her hand.
She was laying beside me. Broken and beaten. Her fists were as swollen as her eyes. She fought hard but she lost too. I didn’t see her in the crowd because she was in the ring with me. We were back to back landing punches on life and taking more blows than we could give. We did our best. We went down fighting are hard as we could. She hit the floor so hard she bounced twice before life knelt down beside her and said don’t get up.
That’s just how life is. You fight, brawl, battle and swing until there’s nothing left then fall. Lower your eyes in submission and admit defeat.
But, that’s not how she is.
She struggled to open her swollen eye. Her small broken hand grasped mine with all the strength left in it. The corner of her lip raised in a defiant smirk. Her swollen eye winked at me. She choked on her words a little but kind of giggled at the same time and said, “get up my love…”
We struggled to our knees in a fruitless attempt to help each other. We could hardly support ourselves. We felt for the ropes and climbed. Pulling ourselves up with all the strength we had left and I held them open with all my might so she could leave the ring. I reached for her but she wasn’t there. I looked in the crowd watching me die but she wasn’t there. I gave up. My head hung in defeat. I was broken and alone.
In a dizzy delirium I remembered our first kiss. I pushed her against a wall and the corner of her lip raised in defiance. She didn’t wink that time, she didn’t even blink. She looked into my eyes deeper than anyone ever had. The goddess in her searched my soul for the god in me. The queen in her searched my heart for the king in me. The survivor in her would not kiss me until she knew there was a warrior in me. She knew the day would come that we would be broken on the floor. She knew I would fall, she knew I would swing at life with reckless abandonment and wind up reaching for the ropes. She closed her eyes, gripped my shirt with her small hands, pulled me closer and kissed me. She saw what she needed to see. She saw the god in me, she felt the heartbeat of a king and the ethos of a warrior in my soul.
Why wasn’t she there. I needed to be pitied but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t cheering for me. She wasn’t helping me up…
Awakening from my daze her cries for help filled my ears with shame. She was fighting life alone while I was catching my breath. She was back in the fight while I was leaning on the ropes. She looked me in the eyes. She didn’t wink this time, she didn’t even blink. She looked me in the eyes so deep the god in me awoke, the king in my heart threw down his crown and dawned the helmet of a warrior. I stood tall. My broken fists raised in defiance and I swung at life so hard it bounced twice on the floor when it fell at her feet.
With rage coursing through my veins and revenge in my heart I lunged at life. I would repay its cruelty in kind. The survivor in her forgave life. The queen in her knew only grace and goddess in her was an entity of mercy. Her small hands gripped my shirt. She pulled me close, closed her eyes and kissed me. Everything inside of me wanted to destroy life in a violent rage of reckless abandonment. But, that’s not how she is.
Photo Credit: Pete Linforth from Pixabay