Dark Night Of The Soul by Doc

It was his Dark Night of the Soul.  Bleak.  Damp.  Cold.  Rainy.
People sensed it.  He could tell.
He drank hot tea, but it didn't really help.
The coldness was flowing out from his soul.

She avoided him because she knew
He would be no fun at all.
He avoided her because he knew that she knew.
They didn't want to be close or to touch or to fake anything.

“It will be nice when it’s Spring”, he stated.
She nodded.
“I think we’ll be OK then.”
She didn't nod this time.

Three months later, he knew it was time to move on.
She saw him off at the door.  Quiet.  Not speaking.
He trudged down the lane to the main road.
His new friend awaited him there.

She said, “You drive.”  She slid over to the right side of the car.
He got behind the wheel.  The heater was on.  It felt good.
“Are you OK?” he asked her.
“Yup,” she replied.

The next day they got the license.
Two days later they were married.
Three days later they were under a palm tree.  They told her friends it was a ‘honeymoon’.
He wondered if he would die, victim of a freak accident – killed by a falling coconut under this very tree.

That night they made love.
No, actually he performed.  It was enough.
He felt unglued and far away… but
This woman didn’t really care.

He knew he was now in port.
Able to simply be.
To observe.
Not to be an object of affection.

She loved herself.
He loved the fact that she loved herself.
(She didn’t really care about him very much.)
He knew his jobs.

He looked forward to shoveling the snow
To washing the dishes
To fixing things around the house
To paying the bills.

She looked forward to a life where she was free
To not catering to any demands
To being able to come and go at her whim
To having no obligations to him or to anyone.

They were well-matched.
Two ships sailing parallel courses, basically on their own.

They grew old together that way.
When he died she remarried a few months later.  It seemed the logical thing to do.