Henry's death
He is ten years older than me but age is not a problem for two grown men. We fell in love right away. We got married in the hotel room with the advent candles, a bottle of wine, and two silver wedding rings.
Then life, together, in Paris was not as I expected. The great city of light separated us instead of uniting us.
Henry loves his job selling flowers and always brings home a plant for me. We no longer have a place to put the new plant pots.
I'm a college history professor. I like to read Spanish-American texts in the libraries and I visit several museums or art galleries every month.
Henry is the freest person I have ever met in my life. Everything about him is authentic. His way of dressing, eating, talking and his gestures are a display of sincere emotions. For example, when he is happy he likes to wear red and lilac shirts with white ties and badly made knots.
At first, I thought he was making fun of my college attire but the truth is that Henry will never learn how to tie a knot because he doesn't like that conventionality for such an elegant garment.
If someone is going to buy a plant from the florist, Henry asks all sorts of questions and at some point, he says: "this is the plant for you". He talks so much that he convinces the customer to take the plant he suggests.
I have come to think that Henry has the gift of persuasion.
On the other hand, he says that I live in the past while he lives in the present. We never agree on that issue. But he insists that it's not something philosophical but practical. And we don't agree on his point either.
But there is one thing we always agree on, we both love chocolate ice cream.
So why do I think Paris separates us? Possibly, because the problem isn’t in the city but for me. I should be a member of the city and the city should be a part of who I am.
I had a long and thoughtful conversation with Henry about my discomfort with continuing to live in Paris. I wanted to move to a mountain and needed him to agree.
Henry spent several days thinking about the proposal. He was dressed in black, white and gray.
The next Sunday morning, while we were having breakfast, he confessed to me that he was several years old with cancer. He was in the Pyrenees because he had that disease and wanted to be in a harmonious place to die in peace. It was in that place that we met.
I was surprised because I did not know about his illness, he had hidden it from me, but I did not interrupt him.
Knowing each other, getting married, moving in together and loving each other has given me life or has lengthened my life. I care about the place where you want to be happy but I would like us to buy a sailboat and go sailing in the world where only you and I are with chocolate ice cream, he said.
-I'm happy here because I know who I am and because I know I love you. I am my city.
We bought the sailboat and went to the Mediterranean. His blue eyes became part of the sea, making me promise to keep sailing until I found my citizenship as a free man.
On the beautiful shores of the Ionian Sea, Henry died. I think he knew he had little time left to live but he still decided to come with me.
He and I were the antitheses of life, but he left me many lessons that even entire libraries of history books had not exposed to me.
He lived for me; he lived so that I would find myself and so that I would believe in myself. Maybe we weren't so different, "I thought". Now, without him, I am sailing inside my city to become a citizen of myself.
Thanks for reading.
Welcome your comments
Infinite greetings!
© Aug 2020, Marcy Betancourt. All rights reserved
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Beautiful!
A lovely story, transcending the everyday and existing in it, too.
Thank you very much for the comment @theinkwell.
I wrote from the city inside each person.
😍
!ENGAGE 25
ENGAGEtokens.Thanks, Cheers!
Oops. Had I read all the comments first, I wouldn't have been redundant about picking the same line as my favorite. Then again, the more feedback you get reaffirming lines that resonate, the better!
A beautiful and sweet story, @marcybetancourt. True love is so hard to describe. It is complex and inconvenient, and never without challenges. You've captured how these two men found one another, and the complexity of their relationship - disagreements, life choices, secrets, forgiveness and all. Nicely done!
I'm so excited! Thank you very much! @jayna
Hello! Your post was selected by The Ink Well for quality and has received an OCD upvote! Congratulations! Please keep sharing these quality posts.
@theinkwell I'm very happy. Thank you so much!
I love Henry of the sea-blue eyes, his love of Paris, and his choice of the Pyrenees as the place to spend the last days of his life. Sad, lovely tale, with a message: He lived for me; he lived so that I would find myself and so that I would believe in myself. ...Now, without him, I am sailing inside my city to become a citizen of myself. Wow!
Thanks for your words @carolkean.
Writing a story in English with quality is a feat for me.