The big robbery

Sitting up with my dearest friend, holding her hand, wiping her tears and generally making tea and small talk, being supportive leaves no time to analyse and reach a conclusion of the reason for this pain.

At this time my only responsibility lies in being there for her… in every which way I can and in every way she needs. So, I follow her instructions and don’t trash the person responsible for it all. All I can say is – I understand – which is what I do and don’t – together and at the same time.

I understand that she hurts. I understand that she needs reassurance that she is beautiful, is smart, is absolutely the bestest person in the world, the one and only who makes me wish I was male. I don’t understand how she did not see the frame. Perhaps the picture was so pretty that the frame wasn’t visible. Or was the frame so pretty that she could not see the picture???

What I am shaken with is the enormity of what she has been robbed of – something she hasn’t even considered. The price she has paid and will continue to pay can never be repaid to her. I hope she will find someone to spend the twilight years with. I hope she finds a better person to be with – someone who truly cares for her. For whatever its worth, my home is her home but it will never be the equivalent of the person to herself!

For the person she is, the world has lost much in her children that she has not had and now unlikely to have. She has lost out in the love and emotion of having ones own children – something which cannot be replaced and cannot be had second-hand. She is bereft of home and hearth – not that she doesn’t have her own house – but never the same as a home built with love of two people. The fear in her eyes of a lonely old age… her loss is so insidious that it leaves my shaking with fury. I am likely to hit the man over his head – or maybe at other more appropriate places, should I ever meet him.

The Padma Laxmi’s of the world will come and keep ripping through lives with gay abandon. Today her name may be Padma, next year Rekha, Salma… whatever. But the person remains the same all young somethings who believe they are above common decency, their greed is their need. Who gets hurt is just a casualty of the circumstances.

Then again, why must I blame the other woman? Who brought her in? He did. It is he who needed the thrills of bedding a woman less than half his age. A romp in the hay, to end with the semester.