Chapter 4

Home. She pondered the word and its meaning, its appropriateness in describing the place she shared with him, the two bedroom fortress she resided in was a haven for silent arguments and memorabilia of past conquests. Her mind waded through childhood memories, of family, shared meals, of the warmth and security that came with being part of a home, of being able to draw comfort in the familiar, a place that offered reciprocal love and devotion. Nope. Her current abode was not a home. Far from it. It once had the potential to become one but that time had passed.


As she cruised the Northern Line to its most southern tip, she reflected on the last 18 months and what had started out as a colourful and care-free situation, had turned into a loveless chore, a routine brimming with self-sacrifice and muted feelings, a relationship built on middle ground and a failure to courageously articulate truths. She knew she had loved him, no doubt there. She knew that she cared for him in ways she had never come to care for men in the past but at some stage, that unbridled passion had transpired leaving emotional debris in its wake.



“THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE.”



The all too familiar monotone voice of the capital’s transport system struck her back into reality. She scanned the carriage and saw the backs of the nations’ workforce alighting the train, briefcases and backpacks in tow, leaving behind a stream of newspapers, confectionary wrappings and the potent aroma of a semi-hard days graft and with that, she made her way out of the carriage, up the escalator and into the busying road outside.

The day’s grey skies had developed a red tinge, one that set the skies ablaze with hope and beauty. She sauntered through the bustling suburb, past the array of estate agents and newsagents, all the while, her heart fixated on the rose-tinted heavens, wishing time away. Before she knew it, she was at the front door quivering with avoidance. She stood motionless, gazing at the white-washed door, sturdy and defensive. She wanted to run, to flee the mediocrity that was waiting for her on the other side. She couldn’t bare to see him, his pathetic little face and his endless gestures that were laced with sentiment but at its core, were rotten and evasive. For she believed that he knew it too, that 18 months, had been 8 months too long, the joy had evaporated and like aging rock-stars, they were trapped, clinging to days of former glory, days when she would smile in his presence, nights when she would please him. But now, it had all dissolved and all that remained were the fragments of lost love and unspoken truths.

She turned around and faced the houses opposite, thinking of the life that could have been, the opportunities for love and lust that had flown by. Her heart sank, for she knew she could not leave him, her guilt would imprison the pair of them. Her eyes were once again drawn to the crimson skies above, with its promise and potential, She liked the beautiful sky, it being something so majestic, that the whole city could appreciate its amorous nature. This thought comforted her, but as her gaze trickled downwards onto the life in front of her, the routines and doctrines that constructed the lives of those that inhabited the city, she sighed. She had come to the conclusion that optimism and hope was reserved for the heavens because here on earth, we lived the predictable, we revelled in the status quo and subscribed to the human agenda. And with that, she turned to face the door once more, put her key in the door and entered her life.