When push comes to Shove
Yesterday on what was my 14th day back on the island, I met a guy called Glen, who sat with me as I drank Jamaican white rum and relaxed in the sunshine. Who out of seemingly no-where, asked me:
why is it that the physical over-rules the emotional?
I asked him what he meant by that, and his response stunned me,:
I’ve hurt my wife, I’ve hurt myself too in the process. But everyone I know hates me and everyone she knows hates me too. And even as I continue to love her, I’m left as my only counsel.
I was intrigued. This guy was sat no more than 2 feet away from me. This was not the sort of conversation topic I expected, but I tilted my head slightly and looked in his face ~See, I wanted to hear more about his reasons and predicament. I’d ‘known’ him when we were both young men growing up in Jamaica, but the term knowing, even when applied in this situation, was perhaps somewhat misleading. Yes I knew his name, I knew his parents names, where he lived, that he liked playing football and cricket, and I’d spent many days playing and interacting with him as lives lived in the same small village and attending the same school classes as the years between age11 to 15 passed away,..but did I really KNOW him?. I mean given that now we were both 40year old men who hadn’t seen each other at all in over 20 years. Until today, I’d lived the last 20 years 3000 miles away in 6 different countries. Glen had remained in this very part of our then shared life, this very island, this town even.
she says things which cut and hurt me deeply. Makes me blind with anger and sadness,..which makes me feel like just killing myself to backside. You know what I mean? and I can never seem to get my words out before my hands can reach out and push her away. But when a push, becomes a Shove,..how do I undo that wrong?
I didn’t know what to say to this last outburst from Glen. I felt like sobering up really quickly. Reminded me of the time when I’d left a nightclub, drinking the night away…then watching the police approach my car window having pulled me over. This guy was venturing into thoughts and circumstances that I’d delved into myself, ..that I’d heard often from other male friends too. Not quite what I had in mind as I took another swig from the rum and coke mixture occasionally secured between my legs as I sat balanced on a make shift stool, on a hot summer day..on my holiday break from life’s problems. I didn’t speak. I searched for words but could only divert my eyes towards the ground. I sought words of solace but none surfaced to my lips. And instead, more questions arranged themselves in my mind. I looked back at him and caught him wiping his eyes. My heart sank but there was something I wanted to say.
………….wanna hear more?
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