El Espejo

The following is my first shot at short fictional writing, it was actually written about 3 months ago, and I was too timid to post it anywhere... It just seems like the right time now...

I have to WARN YOU there is PROFANITY and SENSITIVE ISSUES expressed, so you may want to stop right now.

Also, this is a composite of people, stories shared with me, my own personal issues, thought and simple FICTION. I had so much fun writing this.

Otherwise, welcome to El Espejo.....




El Espejo

As we walk up to each other, he smiles at me and with a twinkle in his eyes says something witty, though what I really notice is the sadness behind his eyes. Those eyes are piercing; they say so much and hid so much more.

Looking closely, I can tell he must have been reading before we walked up to each other, because I can see those small indentations around his nose from his recently acquired reading glasses he tries not to use; and never in public. Time is catching up to him.

His hair is slightly graying; more wrinkles cover his face; there seems to be less hair visible on his head; and he bares a few scars on him. Some of the scars are visible on his skin, others would only be found by knowing his life story or if you could look into his heart.

His body aches, his joints are stiffer, and when he sits too long in one position it hurts his hip. Time is catching up to him as his sight is weakening, and he doesn’t move like he did when he was in his twenties, in his thirties, or even a few years ago when he rounded forty. For sure, time is catching up with him and I see him take a big sigh, and again, I see the sadness behind his eyes.

Most people wouldn’t see what I’ve learned to see, in fact, most people thinks he’s always happy, positive, and there to stand strong for them. They don’t see what I see right now.

“Shit happens,” he gruffly chuckles, as he seems to know I am reading his eyes and his body language.

I can also see he is attempting to shrug off the tears and sadness he’s holding back.

I ask how is he doing, and he opens a small crack in the public shell he keeps polished by the front door.

He says, “I’m tired, that’s all.”

Again, he shrugs, as his eyes come up and looks right back at me, there’s something more, something deeper and darker… I just keep smiling and looking him in the face.

His eyes glance away from mine, and I hear him again, sigh and then shudder.

Looking back into my eyes, now his eyes seem softer and a feeling of brokenness comes over me as he says, “Man, I am really lonely.”

“I thought so,” I say as gently as I can.

“It’s not a new feeling, I’ve felt this way much of my life. I mean, I’ve put up with it, fought against it, tried to ignore it, tried even to accept it and even tried to die to it.

Now, crap, I’m just tired of feeling lonely. Please make it go away,” he says, as he looks right into my eyes, piercing my soul and I have to catch my breath before I reply.

I tell him, “I can help, but I can’t make it go away. I know God is with you.”

He slumps his shoulders a bit, “I know that, and I know God is with me, though you gotta admit it doesn’t take all the loneliness away. Come on, I can’t take God out to dinner; He doesn’t go swimming, or wanna call me up and ask me to go out somewhere. Even my ‘friends’ don’t call me like I need, I’m always the one who calls them, I make the effort to go see them. Otherwise, I’m home alone. You know that’s the truth.”

I’m speechless, as he continues.

“You know what I am talking about and even my best friend lives clear across the country and we only can talk on occasion. It’s not even that I think it’s unfair, duh, everyone has their own life to live, we each got responsibilities and priorities, I…I, ah heck, I just wish I was someone’s priority,” he says, nearly raising his voice, not in anger, but definitely frustrated and he’s hurting.

I say nothing, and just stand there before him.

“Look, people do call me, it is just that they usually call me when they want something FROM me, they don’t call because they simply WANT me. I’m a useful tool, a fucking resource to be tapped into….

I hear from two “friends” that preach about love and that we are Brothers-in-Christ, and a whole lot of other sweet sounding Christianese shit, but they only call when THEY need something; when it fits their schedule, and they call me when they want me to be THEIR sounding board; or some other crap. Shit, no one that really matters to me even remembered my FUCKING birthday! How is it that my co-workers remembered but my ‘friends’ didn’t,” saying this, it is clear he’s really wound up now.

He continues, “Love isn’t something that can be preached, it simply is or it isn’t there… You feel it and respond or you don’t feel it and don’t respond. I’m just saying it’s not something around me much...I am not personally loved. Corporately loved, appreciated by my church and my work, yeah. It is just that I don’t I feel special in anyone’s life. I don’t matter enough.

Heck, you can’t even do anything about it. I just wish I was like a rock in that Simon and Garfunkel song… no feelings, no emotions, no pain, no hurt.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good,” I say in all sincerity.

“He looks back at me and says, “Should it? What am I to do? Do I continue shelving my dreams and desires on a high shelf of my spirit because not wanting will be less painful? Is this something that I need to bury deep in my heart where it either kills a piece of my heart or where it lays painfully untreated, not addressed, like a cancer.

I’ve been doing that, I think that’s why I talking to you now. To bring it all up and out into the light and then discuss this with you and God is listening too. I am sure He will speak into this too, either directly or perhaps indirectly…either way, it requires me to grab it and be accountable to admitting these things.

You and I both have seen how some people seem to live off of low expectations and mediocrity so things don’t hurt so much…it’s not far to fall if you stay low, you know.”

He laughs as he goes on, “Most people accept their lot in life, and I’m not even sure that I can try to do that anymore. I’m hurting AND I’m hopeful. I’m impatient AND I’m trying to be still and wait…May I say that I am actively waiting? Oddly enough, there is this part of me that would rather dream, scream, and shout for these things to manifest in my life and should they not happen…heck, at least I tried. Or should I just keep my head down low?

There’s a worldly truth in the old Japanese saying, ‘the nail that sticks up gets hammered down.’ Well, I’m still sticking up, and I’m not sure if I should move or that I will be moved, instead.

Is change even possible, can we change God’s mind?

I still think I should try; I just don’t know how to, nor am I sure He’ll do that all for me” with that he becomes silent before me.

“Are you that depressed,” I ask.

“Depressed? No, just tired of feeling unloved; just tired of not feeling special to someone, tired that I don’t have the one big thing I feel I deserve…look at me, in my mid-forties, single, and barely making ends meet, I’m a fucking loser, just like my Dad, and that is something I vowed I didn’t want to happen….crap,” he shakes his head and shakes his fists towards me, yet, I it’s not at me.

With a moment to catch his breath and corral his thoughts he speaks, “I know a family of my own is so much on my heart, and I’m not blind to think that things would be all roses once I had a family. Come on, you know me well enough to know I have seen and heard all the difficulties. I simply want those problems, I want a wife to disagree with; to argue with; to have to discipline my kids; open myself to being hurt…I know I was meant for love, I do that good, I WANT TO BE LOVED! Do you get it?” he says somewhat controlled and yet, tears begin to form.
He looks right at me and says, “Don’t get all Bibled up on me; I just want to be real for a moment, to be human and share with you how I feel. Understand that I know God will never leave me, nor forsake me. I know He loves me and I love Him.

Okay, I also admit that I am impatient and for that matter there is no guarantee that I will ever have a family of my own to love. I missed that chapter and now I’m in my mid-forties. You know there is no way you can tell me what the future has in store for me and I am tired of well-meaning Christians spewing verses meant for the nation of Israel as if God was speaking to me. That is abusing Scripture and sure, there is truth in there. Don’t do a blanket toss from the Bible.” He stops talking and we just look at each other.

“There are other people who have it worse than you,” I say.

“Fuck you, is that supposed to make me feel better? No shit Sherlock, I mourn for them too, I mourn for those of my friends who hurt, I mourn for widows, orphans, divorcees’ and those, like me, who are lonely and unwed. You moron, it doesn’t change HOW I FEEL, now does it?” shaking his head at me, now definitely AT me, as he continues, “please, please, please, don’t now jump to the, ‘well maybe it’s God’s will for you,’ load of garbage either,” he takes a breath.

He continues, “God is God and God is good, He has never blessed a storm, he doesn’t make bad things happen, nor does He waste opportunities to reveal His love through the things in life. Hear me out, I am accountable for the choices I’ve made in my past; the things He has shown me to work on and that I am slow to do; and for the things I rejected. I even have to accept that the world is a mess and none of that is God’s will.
No, I’m not going to cop that on God.

I admit there are things in this world that simply suck. I think it sucks for a woman to lose her husband to cancer and now she has to raise two great kids alone. I think it sucks that diseases are not cured, or healed, or for that matter that disease even exists. Why little children should suffer? Don’t say it’s God’s will, because it is not. Even higher gas prices and the price of tea in China are to be blamed on God, no, nada, not. Look, we simply live in a fallen world and we have freewill.

Since the beginning of the earth and throughout today and beyond we’ve made choices and listened to voices that are not God’s. These come from within our own flesh, from the material world around us, and from the enemy of God.

Huh, I know this life I complain about is not God’s will, and I know He can and will use these things in the end to His purposes, but nah, He didn’t cause it, and I can man up to my fair share of mistakes, disobedience, choices, and freewill” he says with finality.

“I apologize for going for the “go to” canned answer earlier, you caught me off guard, and heck, I almost did say that it must be God’s will for you, I am so sorry,” I sheepishly admit.

“There, now you are being real, and I forgive you, thanks for that little bit” he says with even a little satisfaction and smirk.

I look right into his eyes and say, “I realize I have no answers for you, no one does, what I have to offer you is my ears to hear you, and a heart to stand here with you. I’ll also keep praying and keep asking God to grant the desires of your heart, without guarantees that everything will go your way on earth, okay?”

“Okay, that’s all I want, yes, prayers do help and I am sure whatever God’s plans for me are; those plans will be those that best fit His purposes… I submit to that, I just needed an ear to listen to me and to say, ‘yeah, that sucks.” He still looks right at me.

“Yeah, that sucks.” I chuckle.

“There it is. Look God’s equation of life and his level of mathematics’ is so huge and so beyond our comprehension that somehow disasters, horrors, pain, sorrow, suffering, unfulfilled dreams are mixed with laughter, joy, blessings, and fortunes to somehow come together for the good of the Kingdom of God, and I am not going to try to understand something I can’t. It’s a waste of time, and I doubt I am smart enough to even ask the right questions, let alone know any answers.

I am also sure God will answer me, to the level I can understand and only when I really need to understand it, Some things he holds to explain over time and it is that pace and length of time that my relationship with Him is getting real and better. I do trust God, and as I am human and frail, I get frustrated, no not at God, not even totally at me… just frustrated at the situation, condition, affects of whateva’ prevents me from what I want and from what I ‘feel” I deserve…that is even a loaded statement.

Look, I am going to try surrender the things that are beyond my comprehension and reach and to accept the things I do understand, and once in a while, I going to come to you and speak some new sad, crying-out to God kind of psalms to you, grieving over my life… David wrote a few and now I am.

Don’t misunderstand all of this, I think it is healthy to face this straight on and be real, even expose myself, I usually suck it up quite well and I am sure once we’re done here, I’ll go back to being that strong person for everyone else.” He says with a sense of closure and serenity even.

“I’m cool with that, and I too like counting on you. I’ll try to be a bit more sensitive to what’s going on in your heart and let’s check in again more often, okay?” I ask.

“Yes, thanks that would be good.” He says as he cracks a smile and turns away.

We both turn at the same time, and as I walk away, I take on last glance back at….the mirror (el espejo).