Spark the Fire of Love
A spark of electricity can start a fire. If the spark comes from a bolt of lightning and the matter that is to be consumed by the fire is dry and lifeless. Once the energy is transferred from the source to the consumable matter, depending on how long the matter has been in the ready state, can create a tiny ember or explode into a wild inferno. Pain from my past left me a numb and lifeless heart, until the man of my dreams walked into my life and taught me how to love again.
The next few months after my divorce passed as if my life were a light switch being turned on and off by God, with no substance or meaning, other than watching my little boys being moved from my house to his, every other weekend, with no end. I had to watch as female after female enter their lives and exit as if on a circling merry-go-round. I, as their mother, being the strong and consistent constant in their lives. Or so it seemed on the outside. But on the inside I was a dead pile of wood, sitting outside a window or next to a fireplace. You know the kind, the people who have a fireplace in their home just for show and never plan to light it. A stack of wood piled neatly to the side of the living room, waiting to be utilized but everyday just passed by as the owners of the house use their electric heater and blankets.
The ember of love that used to burn so bright with love, even though it burned for my children, was diminishing. It yearned for passion and love. It begged for acceptance and things only mentioned in the cheap romance novels. Sure I went out when I didn't have my boys, a total of three whole men I dated in the months after my divorce. But who wanted a women who had two children, who made ten dollars and hour, had a crazy ex-husband and who didn't think much of herself. How is that attractive? Who could be man enough to change my circumstances? Who could care about me that much? Was I worth the time, effort and risk?
The night I decided to join my friends at the local bar for a drink, was the night he walked through the door. I had known him all my life. We grew up together, a few years apart in age, but his family and mine were close friends. I had seen him a couple thousand times in my lifetime I would say, but something about this time, this night, sent my whole world up on a whirlwind.
I was sitting in on a high barstool at a table next to Ashley and Kevin and my date for the night Derrick. My legs were crossed and set off to the side of the chair where my foot sort of stuck out in the way of people that passed. The place was packed that night because of the local band playing and the smell of people and mist of smoke filled the air inside the place. I had seen on movies before how time stops or slows down when the main character walks through the door. I had never experienced it before, not time standing still like it was about to do.
I sat at the table conversing with the group of friends I came with, when he "bumped" into my foot. He grabbed the foot and looked at it to admire the tattoo that I had on it with my son's name on it. The moment his hand touched my foot, I felt as if I were shocked with static electricity. "Hey who is Jacob?" he asked as he put my foot back down to rest and reached in to hug me.
"That is my son's name, see, I have Chris on the other foot," I said as I extended my left foot out to him to observe.
He looked at it and then began conversing with the rest of the group and I just stared at him. It had been at least five years since I had seen his face and he was no longer the little bad boy that I had remembered him to be when we were ten at the neighborhood pool. He was standing there with a cotton t-shirt that fit snugly across his chest and arms. I seem to remember the way it almost hugged onto his nice fit arms. As he walked away my friend Ashley grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her, "Dwan you are staring kind of hard dear."
I quickly adverted my eyes to the other side of the bar. "Girl, go talk to him while I keep Derrick occupied." Ashley told me as she pushed me out of my chair.
Was it that obvious? Was I drooling? I wondered as I tried to casually walk up behind him at the bar and strike up a conversation. Little did I know that the one spark touch had already started to ignite the dried up wood that my heart had turned into. The more he spoke I had to concentrate on the smoke in the air and make sure it was not seeping out of my skin as I listened intensively to every word he spoke. I casually asked him for his number so we could catch up later, and within another minute or two, he was gone.
The rest of the night I sat at the bar with a blank stare on my face as I replayed over and over the all but fifteen minutes he was in the barroom that night. On the way home that night I texted his phone number and told him it was nice to see him again after all these years and couldn't wait to catch up with him soon.
Little did I know that the events of that night, not only started the fire back in my heart to learn to love again, but his electricity has not left me since. We have been together for six years and almost married for four with a new little boy, Raph that has made our family complete. I will never forget the events that led up to the moment we came together. I am unsure if he will ever know how much he turned me from a bitter, dead leaf on the ground that lay under a pile of others just like myself, into a bright and hot inferno that I am today. I hope our fire never burns out and that our love be an example to our children of how love should be in a marriage and inside a heart.
Yeah after my husband read it, he just kind of looked at me for a little while with this weird look on his face. He smiled and hugged me and said, "Man I don't remember anything about that night, other than seeing you and giving you my number."
Ha thinks bae! Well go ahead and comment away! Let me know if you like it or if it makes me look like a crazy stalker person! Haha!
Maybe I'll try this blogger thing if I can find the time!
