I think I can still vaguely remember the first time I laid eyes on her. I told myself that a day will come when she shall be mine. Nearly eight years later it seemed like the dream would finally come true. But as always, real life wasn’t a bed of roses. ‘Happily ever after’ happens only in fairy tales and movies. And yet if I knew of the long difficult road ahead, I don’t think my feelings for her would have been any different. This is our true story.
Before we could be together, we endured an agonizingly long struggle; against her folks (who were idiots of the top order), and my family (adamant in its disapproval of her), some financial troubles, some legal complications and everything else that fate seemed capable of throwing at us. After what seemed like the proverbial eternity, things were finally looking up. My family gave in – reluctantly at first and then nearly as enthusiastic as I was – thank God. As for her folks, well, let’s just say they didn’t matter anymore to either of us. On a pleasant sunny winter day, she finally became mine and I hers.
Our first time together; it was literally a dark, stormy night. Yet we couldn’t have been more comfortable and at ease with each other. I now really believe those studies which say first-time encounters in dangerous circumstances stay memorable for a lifetime. Up close, she was more beautiful than ever. She was everything I had ever dreamed of. We spent three beautiful days together. Friends and well-wishers showered praise for the prize that she is and for the good fortune that was mine.
Three incredible days. And then she met with an accident. Multiple fractures, head injuries and a broken back. I teetered on the edge of heartbreak for the next few days. My family had the tolerance to put up with the sulking, irritable monster I had become. After a month-long series of treatments, when they wheeled her out for the first time, I noticed I no longer felt the rush I used to whenever I saw her. I was allowed to bring her home, but it’s like she was completely different on the inside. Looking back on all of it, I couldn’t blame myself completely for feeling the way I did. After all, I had watched the one before her die in near-identical circumstances just ten months earlier.
The first time she was ready to go out, I laid my hand on her gently but with much indifference. I could feel familiar senses rekindle. But then life happened. Two days after she came home, she was hit by a jerk backing his car up. While I was holding her. Though she only suffered a few bruises, the incident left me badly shaken.
I know she’ll be well. And she’s physically much more capable than me at regaining all her original strength. Surprisingly I felt less terrible for her this time. Maybe it’s the magnitude of her injuries. In any case, I wished my family shared my optimism. Because I know that when she gets back home this time – whenever that is – she will be taken away from me. I do still want her but my wife has declared she needs her more. Maybe she’s jealous. Or maybe it’s for the best. Either way, I wish them both a happy and comfortable life together.
My dear wife, keep her happy. My dear Prius, keep my precious missus comfy and safe.