and choose a different future, or past.
― Richard Bach
Mi Casa...Mi Inferno
It wasn't my choice, but I inherited a massive house when my parents' plane went down .
Orphaned at twenty with no real plan for my future―it wasn't easy.
I had no idea what to do so I retreated into academia and fifteen years later I'm still lost as I was on that cold afternoon in November.
Yes, I became a Prof, but other than that, I'm not sure I have an identity. Still drifting in a cosmic fog, like a rudderless ship, afloat but gradually sinking.
Welcome to my world, where I have everything I need, but nothing that sustains me.
I pull into my driveway and cut the motor on my SUV.
It's almost dusk but the winter solstice has shortened the days and lengthened the nights. It makes it gloomy and adds to my angst when I jog the Bruce Trail and try to make it back home before it turns dark.
I have many fears and many ghosts and nights still terrify me.
"Supper's warming in the oven, Professor Eaves," Mollie, my housekeeper, informs me as she's leaving. She's been with me since my parents died and I'd be lost without her.
"Safe home, Moll," I call out to her, as the door shuts. It's the same old―she's gone at six and then the thick stone walls encircle me.
And I'm alone again, as I usually am, except for Mab, my golden retriever, who keeps a close watch on me―the only other female apart from Moll I trust implicitly.
I grab a quick bite at the kitchen table, deliberately avoiding the dining room, and then take my coffee and pie into the den where a fire is crackling merrily.
Moll thinks of everything from my favourite foods to homemade apple pie, but she has a life apart from me. She arrives at 9 and works to 6, cleaning the house, walking and taking care of Mab and really looking after all the household affairs.
With my Professor's income and the inheritance from the family estate, all my physical needs are met―it's my emotional and social needs that are lacking―more specifically, Wren Tyler...
I'd add her to my To Do List, but unfortunately, that train has left.
It was a stupid drunken remark at a staff social that doomed our budding romance.
I said she resembled a movie star referring only to her looks, but as it turned out that particular actress was involved in a scandal in the news that involved cheating on her husband.
"So you're saying I'm a liar and a cheat?" Wren fumed.
"No, but you look like her," I replied, a drunken smile plastered to my face.
She stormed out and refused to talk to me for three days.
The fourth day was just before Christmas break and I brought her a present and made a heartfelt apology, but she was having nothing of it and handed back books I loaned to her.
She never talked to me again―even during staff meetings which made it very uncomfortable for everyone.
She made up her mind―she was permanently ghosting me. I figured over time anger cools, but not with Wren―the longer we remained apart, the more furious she became.
I know, most people would figure I'd move on and put it down to experience and I really want to except for one thing―I honestly love her.
And that's the short story of my life you might call a romantic tragedy, except I can't leave it at that.
I'm forever going back to relive the past and give it alternate endings, but the spin I give those events never changes my present or future.
It seems I'm stuck in a place where I can't go back and can't move on either. If this is hell, I better get used to it.
They say there are sombre sunsets in hell where my desire for Wren has shipwrecked me