Falling Through the Fog
Snama awoke to find Neshe had left for his work. Again this day, she was free to relax, and of course it was the library which attracted her.
There were things, underlying things since she had arrived that led her to questions regarding Neshe; small things he had said, papers that made no sense. Somehow these pieces did not fit in the picture of himself that he had painted for her.
And then, by chance, she found it. His fold of business cards. Neshe was not who or what she thought he was.
She was shocked beyond belief. She spent the rest of the day in anticipation of confronting him; every second agonizing, waiting for Neshe to return.
Snama felt like a parachutist who in the middle of a free fall discovers that the parachute isn’t opening.
She felt as if her innards were convoluting in an attempt to tear out of her in some way.
The discovery that Neshe hadn’t been entirely truthful to her had uprooted her self-belief.
It wasn’t of much consequence that he was a businessman and not a professor as he had told her. Or that he ran a successful business instead of being employed at the University. What was of consequence was that her trust had been fractured.
When she had confronted him, he had been very forthright, even contrite. Had told her exactly what he was, exactly how it had come about that he had posed as a professor at the chat site where they had first met, and how, by the day, he had thought of apprising her of the reality about him, and how he could not.
She had asked his servants to arrange a taxi, and had walked out his home, out of his life.
If only he had let her.
He had not let her. She had come to the hotel which his servant had told her about, and there he was, right after her, now ensconced in the sofa, while, she, it was her room, dammit, paced the carpet, still fuming.
He didn’t speak, had just said, “Let me in.” when he had knocked at the door, had come in, closed the door behind him, and simply made himself comfortable on the sofa.
Suddenly she whirled at him,
“And I’d thought you were a gentleman, a real gentleman.”
“What’s an unreal gentleman?” he spoke for the first time since he’d come in.
She stopped in her tracks.
“You see,” he said softly “you’re anger is clouding your ability to think, to speak rationally”
“So, what do you suggest, I applaud your chicanery?” she asked.
“Take it in your stride,” he said, still very softly “ you and I met in a fantasy world, and from there traveled to reality”
“But I never lied to you Neshe” she fumed “Why should you have?”
“I was already a lie when you met me.” He answered. “I didn’t make it up for you.”
“But you could have told me the truth at any time.”
“And risked losing you?” he countered.
“As if you haven’t now” she said disdainfully, looking straight into his eyes.
“No.” he said emphatically. “I haven’t.”
“You’re here, I’m here, and I propose to take you back with me.”
“Fat lot of chance of that” She answered, “ I suggest you take your leave and go your way.”
“We shall see.” He replied softly, rose from the sofa, poured out a glass of water from the carafe on the table, drained it, sat down again.
“What makes you so sure that you’ve banished me from yourself?”
he asked her, his eyes, his gaze steady.
Snama sat next to Neshe on the sofa, and faced him. She looked straight into those sharp-shooter eyes of his.
She thought before she spoke.
"It is difficult, Neshe, to be sure of anything, when you realize the unsurety of what is presented under the classification "Real".
You have asked me what is an "unreal gentleman". The answer is simple to me. It is a man who has presented himself to me to be of gentle bearing, polite and considerate; and then proves not really so in my eyes.
It was inconsiderate of you to let me believe so long in your falsehood. The longer this deception lasted, the farther up the mountain of faith I had climbed. Faith in you and with you. And now, I am pushed off that mountain. You have distupted my faith, my surety. I am left in the fog. Alone and falling, in the fog.
You tell me "take it in stride"...This is easier said than done.
You ask me how I am so sure I have banished You from me. My answer is this...I am not sure at all.
I find you lacked faith in me. You did not trust that I would accept the reality of your identity. That I would judge you based on your identity. You should have known better.
It is not the reality of your identity which disturbs me. It is the illusion I was under that we were being honest with each other. That. That is what disturbs me. You allowed that illusion. Perpetuated it.
Why Neshe? Why did you have such a lack of faith in me?"
"It never was a question of my lack in faith in you" he answered immediately, "It was a question of my ability in breaking the news to you in the least possible hurting manner." He paused looking straight into her eyes. "It does not shame me to confess that till today I had not found that ability in me."
"Which means," she said "had I not learned this today, you would not have told me."
"Yes. I would not have told you." Neshe answered, evenly, "Not until I had the ability to tell you without damaging you, myself, and us, what he have between us."
"Pray tell me Neshe, how would you have achieved that ability?"
Snama asked, her tone flat, her eyes eloquent.
"Frankly," he responded, "I haven't the faintest idea. Had I known that, I would have had found that ability too."
"In a way, you are admitting that you would have continued with this subterfuge . . . till whatever time you could tell me." Snama spoke slowly, evenly, without a trace of emotion in her voice. Her eyes told an entirely different story altogether.
"Yes."
He spoke in a monosyllable. She answered with silence. And the silence oozed into long, sterile minutes. Neshe's eyes found hers. She matched the intensity of his gaze with her own.
Thus they were locked, eye to eye, soul to soul, when there was a thunderous crash, a blinding burst of light, and then, sudden, total, all encompassing darkness.
With a muffled scream, Snama sought refuge in Neshe's arms.
He held her clasped tight to himself. A hand gently caressed her back. Softly he murmured,
"This is the reason. For the lie. And for the truth. For your traveling to me. For my being here. For you being in my arms."
His lips found hers. He kissed her. She kissed him back.
Snama undressed him, and then herself. They slipped into a torrent of lovemaking, there in the hotel room and all issues vanished. All that mattered was the truth of their connection.
 Reality.......Part 14 |
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