© JBH/BVD-2014 – Paris (France)
Bastien
Thắng returns from his errand to the post office and frowns when he walks into the house. His husband is sitting in front of the muted TV, cheeks tear-stained. He’s never left for work. Hugh loves his job and hates missing a day.
“Honey?”
Thắng
says softly. “Are you ok?”
Hugh shakes his head and exhales softly. “No.”
Thắng
glances at the TV. The news was playing. “Is this about what happened in Paris last night?”
Hugh nods.
Thắng
sits next to Hugh and brings the tissue box. Hugh appreciates it, and after blowing his nose, reaches for
Thắng’s hang.
Thắng
squeezes it tight.
“I was just so stunned last night. Paris is just right across the Channel from us. It just didn’t seem real you know? I went to bed thinking I’d wake up and it was all a bad dream.”
“But it wasn’t,”
Thắng
says softly.
Hugh is quiet for a minute. “Marcie and her boyfriend where there on vacation. Her boyfriend didn’t make it. He was at the cafe.”
Thắng
gasps softly. “The blond she was dating?”
Hugh nods softly and pushes tears out of his eyes again. “Marcie was injured but she’s fine. Physically, at least. I saw her post on Facebook.”
Thắng
tries to think of something to say but Hugh keeps going.
“It’s just so stupid! It’s just so pointless, so senseless! I mean – why? What does ruining her life have to do with racial Islamic extremist goals? I don’t understand. And the more I think about it, the more sick I feel,
Thắng. And I feel so selfish, cause all I can think right now is if I lost you.”
“Oh honey,”
Thắng
says helplessly, pulling Hugh into his lap in an awkward hug. “But that didn’t happen. You’re here. I am here. It’s a beautiful day here in Manchester. You can’t think of the what-ifs or you’ll go crazy.”
“I feel so helpless. Do we have any control over our lives? Or is each day a miracle that we don’t die in such random accidents?” Hugh sniffles and rubs at his eyes with a tissue.
“Maybe. I think we get into small accidents all the time, but we are incredible survivors. The chance of being killed in something severe has to be so low. I mean – we survived birth. That’s the hardest test to pass isn’t it?
Hugh shrugs.
“If we lived in fear of horrible things happening all day then we wouldn’t live our lives at all right? I mean you have a much higher chance of dying in a car crash, but that doesn’t stop you from hesitating to get into yours does it?”
Hugh sniffles and released a ragged breath. “I guess not.”
“And no matter how safe of a driver you are, it does nothing to prevent someone from senselessly plows into you. The best thing you can do is just be safe every day and be grateful for what you have, and accept what is out of your control. That’s all you can do. Some things are just out of our control.”
“I’m so sad for Marcie,” Hugh replies. “I don’t know if she’d be comforted by those same words.”
“The guilt over the what-ifs will be hard. Nothing will take that pain away. Only time will lessen it. Supporting her and letting her know she’s not alone in her grief is the best comfort we can give her.”
“I feel silly crying for a man I barely even knew.”
Thắng
clucks. “I’m sure his family wouldn’t feel that way. Also, I think, part of you is mourning for Paris too.”
Hugh snuggles against his husband and sighs. “I love you so much. If anything happens to us, I want you to know that. Even when we have fights and I hate you for two seconds, I still love you.”
“I love you too, Hugh.”
“Can we do something for Marcie? or her boyfriend’s family?”
“I think that’s a very nice thought, Hugh. Let me go talk to her on Facebook and I’ll see what I can do ok?”
Hugh nods. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m exhausted. I was up all night watching the news.”
Thắng looks surprised. “You were?”
“Yeah. I got up after you went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking of the bombings in Beirut and the people in Paris. The death toll kept going up and up…”
“But it’s not going up anymore,” Thắng reminds. “The healing process begins now, right? These terrorists want us to live in the present, fear. The most defiant thing we can do is keep moving forward.”
Hugh gives Thắng a loving look. “You are an amazing person for being so positive in a time like this.”
Thắng kisses Hugh on the temple. “I’m just a regular person, Hugh.”
“Just a strong one.”
“I wasn’t always this way. Growing older has taught me a lot of things. So has being married to you,” Thắng answers.
“Good things?”
“Yes.”
Hugh squeezes Thắng’s hand. “I like being married to you too. Can you help me up? My foot’s asleep.”
Thắng helps Hugh to his feet and he shakes his foot awake.
Thắng guides Hugh to the bedroom and puts his husband back to bed.
Once tucked away,
Thắng walks back to the living room, sits in front of the TV, and unmutes the news. In only a few minutes he begins to cry. Hugh was right, it wasn’t fair, and
Thắng would go insane if he lost him. All they could do was acknowledge their luck and keep moving forward.
Thắng
brushes the tears off his cheeks and reaches for his laptop. Moving forward and helping others will make the healing process go faster.
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The text is 100% fictional. I felt like writing something in response to the attacks on Paris last week. Source of the photo is listed above.
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