True Love
Chapter 14
"Beverly went into shock and remained in a coma for nearly two weeks.
Every resource that the hospital could bring to bear was employed in a frantic
effort to sustain her life. They had managed to stabilize her situation, but she
remained comatose; fed intravenously, breathing with the aid of a ventilator,
monitored continuously, tended round the clock by a team of medical personnel. I
spent nearly all my waking hours at her side, numbed by fear, dreading the
terrible possibility that I would be deprived of my only true love for the rest
of my existence. My sleep was awash with nightmares, wild phantoms that bubbled
up from my subconscious, warped by their journey, impossible to interpret, but
ominous in their portent."
"One night, without any hint, she returned to our world. I was
immediately informed and rushed to her room. To my dismay Beverly gave no sign
that she recognized me. I was assured that this was not abnormal under the
circumstances and urged to be patient. Realizing that I was powerless in this
situation, I attempted to follow the advice of the doctors. It was a most trying
task."
"A week dragged by and then another. Beverly started to make physical
progress, but her mental state was still to be determined. It was discovered
that her vocal cords had been severely damaged during her lengthy ordeal, and
she was unable to speak. She did however react to people's voices, an
encouraging sign. The doctors gave me a very positive prognosis concerning her
ability to regain the use of her vocal cords, but were ambivalent about anything
having to do with her mental condition."
"At my urging the staff began to address the issue of repairing the
physical damage that had been done to Beverly during her stay at the hospital,
especially her ten days in level zero. To their credit they came up with a
number of innovative procedures that allowed them to fully restore many severely
damaged portions of her body, and in cases where this was not feasible utilize
advanced plastic surgery techniques combined with space age materials to almost
completely disguise the terrible scars and burned areas that could not be
regenerated."
"During the many months that it took to almost completely rebuild
Beverly's body, she began to show signs of recovering her memory. Of even
greater significance she was beginning to demonstrate that her mental faculties
had not suffered irreversible damage. As predicted by the doctors, her ability
to speak returned slowly and steadily until she was once more able to
communicate without the use of hand gestures or grunts. Still I continued to
have this unsettling feeling that the woman I loved had not returned."
"The attention of the staff began to concentrate more on her mental
status as her physical rehabilitation continued to progress satisfactorily. A
number of independent psychiatric evaluations were made to assess her situation.
There was significant consensus concerning her condition. As I already knew,
there were selective gaps in her memory that did not appear to have any pattern
to them. Nymphomania was still a dominant characteristic, muted to a degree by
her physical condition. She remained a confirmed masochist, but the strong
connection between these two personality characteristics had been compromised
somewhat, not surprising when considered against what had occurred to her during
her stay at the hospital. Her self-worth, esteem, confidence, call it what you
may, was almost non-existent. This too they judged to be a legacy of her ordeal.
In her mind she had failed to achieve what she was seeking. Of course no one
except Beverly knew what that was."
"It took time, but gradually Beverly and I began to rebuild our
relationship, a process that continues to this day. To my relief she started to
acknowledge me as someone from her pre-hospital days, one who cared about her.
However to my dismay she was unable to grasp the depths of my love for her. That
is a part of her that never has returned. To this day my love for her saturates
every fiber of my being. Tragically she is incapable of returning this feeling.
In many ways ours is a marriage of convenience. I am not her husband; rather I
am her slave. I am not her lover, merely her procurer. I still am the one
standing just beyond the harsh light that illuminates her as she continues her
search for the rest of her being. It is ironic that I am unable to be her guide
because she isn't even aware of the fact that she is incomplete. Yet this hidden
urge to recombine drives her every action. Lately I have begun to despair as I
accept the obvious that the missing portion is as they say, "Beyond the ken";
forbidden to us that have not dared to try to escape the gravity that binds us
to this earthly prison. I cannot avoid being reminded of the words of T. S.
Eliot, " This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not
with a bang but a whimper."
I sat there stunned at what he had revealed to me, a person who he had
just met a few hours ago. For a moment I wondered why, and then dismissed the
question from my mind. There was still time tonight to assist Beverly in her
other directed search for herself. It was the least I could do for him and her.
(There is no more to be said)
