My Rotting Remains

The agony was too much. I’ve never cried so hard, my thoughts were scattered, I was confused and angry all at once.

I knew about the outcome of this but yet I was obstinate and had to have my own way. I sat at the edge of my bed with tears flowing down my pale cheeks; the sun stood still with its gleaming glow. It was as though it was punishing me for what I had done. The world scorned me.

Tim and I had been married for several years. Together we started our family and little by little we built ourselves the perfect home, or so we thought. As the days went by, “Tim was forced to work out of town to help feed and support the family.” Like any wife I supported his decision. The nights seemed endless and the days kept crawling. I was forced to spend my lonely nights crying the dry tears. I missed my husband so dearly; I longed for his kisses.

A day out with my girlfriends changed everything I once felt for my husband.

“Mark,” the voice said softly. I turned slowly with a question written on my face.

“I beg your pardon?” He looked straight into my eyes; I could feel the stare piercing my skin.

“Mark,” he repeated. “My name is Mark, I live just a few blocks away from you, and I’m sorry if I stared too hard but I was taken back by such radiant beauty.”

I blushed, and with a bright smile I got up and introduced myself;

“Elizabeth,” I said. I was already lost in his eyes, and his smile made me tingle all over.

Mark and I eventually left the group and made it to the park. We became mutual friends. He knew I was married but we both enjoyed each other’s company. We spent days together; thoughts of my husband barely crossed my mind. I was dangerously hooked on Mark.

Nothing seemed possible without him…we had endless pleasure together. This was an affair that I was determined to live with. I was willing to give up my entire family for this man. He treated me like a queen, dining out at nights, and unexpected gifts of love and affection. I was putting my wants before my needs. He adored my children and they loved him, but little did they know he was their mother’s secret pleasure.

I looked at myself in my bathroom mirror, I looked beautiful and youthful, I smiled more often and I felt that youthfulness I had with Tim. My heart told another tale, I can never love two men at the same time. I tried convincing myself that it was infatuation, but Mark was very charming and he had become a part of me. You’ve got to stop this,” I whispered to myself. “An affair will just ruin your marriage and besides Tim will be back,” I assured myself. I refused to listen to myself; I set aside every negative thought I had about Mark and let my passion take the best of me.

Mark decided he wanted to end this ‘fling,’ he wanted out. I was shocked. I had already given him the best of me and now I was left heartbroken. I pleaded with him not to end our relationship but he just kept shunning me. I felt ripped, inside a burning desire for Mark. Many nights I cried the tears of regret. I was now left alone.

I stood there dumb.

“How could you?” I screamed as I tried to hold back my gushing tears.

He glanced away and playfully kicked about stones on the ground and said

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

I froze, my heart froze because I watched my lover walk out of my life.

My husband returned home and I felt reprehensible. I was scared but I vowed not to let my guilty conscience ruin my marriage. I spent most of my time longing for Mark. I rejected my husband’s embrace; I only wanted Mark’s touch. I pretended that everything was all right when really I was burning inside with desire for another man.

On a bright Saturday afternoon, as I baked cookies for my kids and listened as they ran through the house screaming, the buzzer on my door went off. As I walked towards the door, I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and gently flung it on the kitchen counter.

“Good afternoon, Madam,” the mailman said with a huge smile.

“Good afternoon to you too. May I help you?”

He gave me the telegram and calmly walked away. It had been a telegram for me, and it was from an unknown name, but it was addressed to me. “Who?” I thought to myself.

It read, “Mark died.” Stop. “He died peacefully.” Stop. “Package to follow.”

“Mark died,”I whispered to myself. I felt my stomach growl, suddenly I felt dizzy. I became numb; the walls looked as though they were closing in on me. I was spinning helplessly.

The package that followed had a letter from Mark, and in the privacy of my room my tears rushed helplessly down my cheeks. I sat at the edge of the bed unsure of what to expect. As I read the letter my heart raced and my thoughts were cloudy and gray. He had left because of his illness, an illness that killed him, he regretted every hurt he caused me but was happy that in his lifetime he met a woman such as me.

As I read the letter my husband came in only to find me slumped on the bed in tears. He took the letter from me but I was too ashamed to fight back. He read with disbelief, his anger grew faster as he too broke down with tears of betrayal and hatred.

“Forgive me,” I pleaded with him.

The scornful look he gave me made me realize that our vows ‘for better or for worse,’ were all just a sham. He hated me no less, I made him cry. The man I once loved I compared to a man I lusted for. I was scorned amongst everyone. It had been an excruciating affair.

My rotting remains were a disgrace. Now I have to live with the guilt and the poison of what I had done to my family, and myself. I have allowed my lust to consume me and my consequence is definite, the house with the picket fence is broken and all my dreams shattered all at once. I am HIV Positive. God! Help me now…. How can I stop these tears from falling down helplessly.

Copyright © 2008 Tashandra Inniss