LIfe After Death

“People are going to think I'm crazy. Or that I'm suffering from some sort of trauma from the accident. They’ll say things like PTSD or psychosis. But I know what it was. It was more than just an out of body experience. It was an out of life experience. It was death. I vividly remember that day. The coffee shop. The woman. The car speeding towards me as I quickly tried to maneuver my wheelchair to the other side of the street. I blacked out momentarily, but regained consciousness as they lifted me into the ambulance. I clearly recall being surrounded by paramedics. One placed an oxygen mask on my face. Another was yelling at me to keep fighting. And that was the plan. To keep fighting until I got to the hospital where they could connect me to a machine that would fight for me. I remember being taken out of the ambulance and being rushed into an all white room. And that's when reality set in. That's when I knew that I was only moments away from taking my last breath. I used my last bit of strength to force a smile. Not to show the doctors how much I appreciated their efforts. But to mock them. Your job is to save lives. But you fail at that job everyday. And now I get to have a front row seat to watch you fail at something you have prepared for your entire life. I know how that sounds. I know that I'm coming across as unhinged. But there was a method to my mania. My entire life I have always been involved in some sort of competition. Being a winner was constantly pounded into my spirit. But I knew that I had already lost this time. The doctors just didn't know yet. In their minds, they were still in the game. But I knew better. And I refused to spend my last moments on earth cheering for the losing side. So I became a fan of death. I've heard people say that you see a bright light right before you die. I didn't. I saw darkness. I saw actual darkness. The way you see darkness in death is completely different from how you see darkness in life. And if I attempted to explain it to you then it would either be incomprehensible, or it would make entirely too much sense. Do you know what it's like for something to make too much sense? And I mean something that is beyond the realm of understanding, yet, you understand. Well, I have a level of understanding that transcends all other levels of understanding. I understand life, I understand death, and I understand life after death. And this is why I came to you. I figured speaking to a psychologist would make more sense than speaking to anyone else. What your perception of me is after you leave this room doesn't matter. But right here, right now, and professionally, you’re not allowed to call me crazy. You're not allowed to cut me off and interject with judgments or opinions. Your job right now is to simply listen. So here goes. The moment after I flat lined I transformed. I went from the physical to the spiritual. And as a spirit, there was no pain and no fear. I didn't need an adjustment period to settle into my new form. It was natural. All of a sudden, I heard a voice. A powerful, yet calming voice. I assumed it was the voice of God. I began looking around. I've always wondered what God looked like, but He never physically revealed himself. Only verbally. So I just listened. He reminded me of all of my wrongdoings on earth, and said that He forgave me, but was also giving me an opportunity to fix a lot of the pain that I had caused. There was no way to go back in time and undo the things I had done, but He was giving me power to make things right for others. I was sent back to earth, still in the spiritual form so that I would only be seen by other spirits with the same assignment. My assignment was simple. I couldn't control the actions of people, but I was given power over the outcome of their actions. It was up to me to determine their circumstances. The last thing God said to me was, ‘Remember, Heaven forgives.’ Next thing I know I'm standing next to a man for whom I had developed great disdain. A man that I have hated since childhood. The man who I credit with ripping my family apart. When I was seven years old this man fired my father from a job that he worked for twenty-five years. My mother was a stay at home mom so my dads’ job was our only source of income. Well, one night I overheard my parents arguing. Apparently, the man that my father worked for had a thing for my mother. He tried many times to pursue her but she always rejected him. He eventually got so mad that he came up with a bogus reason to fire my father. Then he asked my mother how important it was to her for my dad to have his job back. My dad didn't even find out about it until one day he decided to return to the job to beg his former boss to re-hire him. He busted into his office only to see my mother, his wife, in a rather compromising position. She tried to explain to him what was going on, but he didn't want to hear it. Honestly, I didn't blame him. But now, God had placed me next to this man. The same man that destroyed my family when I just a kid. He had become so depressed that he was suicidal. He was on the edge of a bridge ready to drown himself both literally and figuratively in his sorrows. And there I was, in the spiritual form, with the power not to stop him from jumping, but to determine what happened after he jumped. I could arrange for a boater to save him. I had the power to allow him to be saved and have a change of heart. It was up to me to allow the man who destroyed my life to have a second chance at making his life better. So he jumped. It seemed like an eternity before he hit the water. I went back and forth about whether or not to let him die. In as quickly as a blink of an eye I replayed my childhood. I saw the pain in my fathers’ eyes. I saw my mother begging him for forgiveness. Then I saw my father kissing me on my forehead right before walking out on us. The last thing he told me was that he loved me and that I was now the man of the house. Just as I had that last thought I heard the body of the man I hated smack against the water. I watched him as he disappeared below the surface of the river. A boater who was nearby jumped into the water to save him. But it wasn't up to him whether or not this man survived. It was up to me. Time was running out and it was time for me to make a decision. Then I remembered God's last words before sending me out on my assignment. ‘Heaven forgives.’ And I thought to myself, ‘So why should I?’ I didn't feel like it was up to me to forgive this man for destroying our family. That was heavens job. And I was on earth. I stared at the river waiting for the boater to come back up alone. My plan was to change his circumstances. Even though he wouldn't be able to save the man that destroyed my family, he could still look like a hero to the world. Everyone would know how brave he was. He would receive the highest award possible for heroism. But he never came up. I was hurt. But I was confused. Suddenly, there was a flash and I was back in heaven. I screamed out to God and asked Him why the boater had to die. All He said was, ‘That wasn't your assignment.’ Then everything went dark. I heard a doctor yell, ‘I think we saved him.’ I opened my eyes to five doctors standing around me. One smiled and said, ‘Congratulations, you're going to make it.’ Over the next couple weeks, I recovered rather quickly. But I never told anyone about my experience with God. Not until now. Its been two months since I was released from the hospital and I guess I just don't know what to expect. God told me that heaven forgives, but I feel like I'm going to be punished for failing my assignment…You probably have no idea how to respond. I'm sure you don't believe one word that has come out of my mouth. I don't blame you. I don't know if I would believe it myself.”

Aaron's psychologist takes off his glasses and places them on the table.

“I believe you,” he says. “One day I was out on my daily jog when I felt a tightness in my chest. I collapsed on the sidewalk. A woman ran towards me. She asked if I was ok. That was the last thing I remember. I suddenly was surrounded by an all white mist. I felt like I was walking through a cloud. Then I heard a voice. The same deep, yet calming voice that you heard. I immediately knew it was God. He gave me the same assignment that He gave you. And His last words to you, were also His last words to me. ‘Remember, heaven forgives.’ I didn't quite understand why He felt the need to tell me that. I grew up in church. I was well aware that God forgave all sins as long as the person repented with a genuine heart. Suddenly, it all made sense. I came face to face with the one man who I have never been able to forgive. You and I have a lot in common, Aaron. I too, was given the assignment of determining the outcome of the actions of the man I hated. The man who destroyed my family. The man who took my wife from me. To make matters worse, he got her pregnant and then left her. I tried to work it out with her. I tried to be there for her and the baby. I tried so hard. But I just couldn't do it. Every time I looked in that baby's eyes I saw his real father. Even though I never actually came face to face with the man, I knew what he looked like. So, after I left her for good, I vowed that if I ever crossed paths with him, that I would kill him. He would never see it coming. He had no idea what I looked like. It never happened in life, though. But now, in death, I was granted the opportunity not to kill him, but to decide whether or not he lived based on a decision that he made. And just like you, I thought of God's last words to me. And also like you, I ignored them. I watched as he made the decision to try and cross a street even though a car was coming. I guess he felt he was entitled because he was in a wheelchair. I could have arranged for that car to either brake or swerve. I could have saved his life. Or should I say, I could have saved your life, Aaron. But you took my perfect life from me. So I felt that it was only right to return the favor.”

“You bastard!” Aaron says infuriated. “You killed me!”

The psychologist lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Bastard? Well, speaking of your son. Things didn't turn out so great for him, Aaron. But I'm sure you don't care about what I allowed to happen to him. This is about you. Earlier you said you didn't know what to expect and that you feel you will be punished for failing your assignment. Well I have allowed death to befall both a father and son. So I can tell you firsthand that there is a punishment. Welcome to hell on earth, Aaron.”

Walk with Me

Walk with Me

“Listen heart, I understand that you want to feel what you want to feel, but you have been way too irresponsible. But it's my fault. It's my fault for giving you the power. It's my fault for letting you do the thinking knowing damn well you don't have a brain.”

Kimberly is trying to talk herself out of turning her car around and returning to Robert. As liberating as it was to escape his emotional and psychological bondage, this was still the man she had been in a relationship with for the past six years. It has literally been five minutes since she walked out of the house, but it already feels like an eternity. Her heart is aching and her mind is racing. She's weighing her past against her future. Is it less painful to stay with an unfaithful man whom she knows, or go through the process of getting to know someone new who could possibly be unfaithful as well? Just as she has this thought, her phone rings. She looks down and sees that it's Robert.

“No!!!” she yells at the phone. “I'm not about to let you sucker me back in.”

She hits the ignore button but Robert is relentless. He is determined to coerce her into going back home. It takes three more unanswered calls before she finally concedes. She doesn't hesitate to express her displeasure with his persistence.

“What do you want, Robert?”

“Just to talk,” he says with desperation in his voice. “Can you please just come back home?”

“No! I'm done with your manipulation and deceit.”

“I'm done with my manipulation and deceit too, though. I can change. I can be a better man for you.”

“No, you need to be a better man for yourself. You need to change because it's the right thing to do. Not because of me.”

“Yes, that's what I meant,” he says crying. “I want to be a better man for me, and that in turn will make me a better man for you.”

Hearing Robert cry is beginning to tug at her heartstrings and she hates herself for it. She knows that she needs to terminate the phone call as quickly as possible, or risk slipping back into his trap.

“Goodbye Robert,” she says with tears beginning to form in her eyes. Never before had she uttered two words that hurt so much. The finality of it all is beginning to set in and she can no longer control her emotions. She hangs up the phone and begins sobbing uncontrollably. The tears are building up so quickly and abundantly that she can't seem to wipe them fast enough. Her vision is impaired and she can no longer see the solid yellow lines that separate her from oncoming traffic. Suddenly, she hears the sound of a horn that becomes louder as it gets closer. She wipes her tears just in time to see the headlights of a truck as it smashes into her car.

One year later…

Thursday, October 17^th, 2017 9:37 a.m.

Dear Journal, 

As I sit here, in physical therapy, on the one-year anniversary of the day I almost lost my life, I can't help but feel grateful. I survived a horrific car accident which probably should have taken my life. I came face to face with death, and became aware of my own mortality. And even though I'm in physical therapy, literally learning how to walk again, I have developed a whole new appreciation for life. Not being able to walk has forced me to just sit and watch. I watch all of the things I used to take for granted. The birds. The trees. The clouds. They are all here for a purpose. And so am I. I don't know yet what my purpose is, but I refuse to approach my purpose sitting down. I will walk again. And when I do, I will walk purposefully.

Kimberly closes her journal book and looks up at Crystal, her physical therapist, who is in tears. She has made an entry every day for the past seven months. Prior to each physical therapy session, she reads her journal entry for that day to Crystal.

“I'm not supposed to be crying at work Ms. Allen,” Crystal says forcing a slight laugh through her cry. “That was beautiful. Your story is so inspiring to me…Ok, I need a moment to get myself together so we can continue getting you back on track towards walking again. I'm going to run to the bathroom. I'll be right back.”

Crystal quickly makes her way to the bathroom. Suddenly, Kimberly hears a deep voice from behind that startles her.

“Is that Ms. Allen, or Mrs. Allen?”

She turns around and sees a man who appears to be tall and athletic in a wheelchair. She notices that his legs are almost too long for the chair.

“It's Ms. Allen,” she says smiling. “But you can call me Kimberly.”

“Nice to meet you, Kimberly. My name is Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you as well Aaron.”

Aaron looks around as if he wants to make sure no one is near before he continues speaking.

“Look, this is my first time here, and I honestly don't know how long I will even rehab at this facility, but I just wanted to say that listening to you read your journal really moved me.”

“Thank you,” she replies. “It makes me feel good to know that I'm able to reach people. But why don't you know if you will continue rehabbing here?”

Aaron looks around once more.

“I have history with your therapist. And it didn't end well.”

“What did you do to her?” Kimberly asks with a playful bluntness.

“What makes you think it was me?” he asks laughing. “How do you know she didn't break my heart?”

“Well regardless of who hurt whom, you're going to have to tell me another time. She's on her way back.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” he says maneuvering his wheelchair away from her. “Nice meeting you. I'll see you around.”

As Crystal approaches, Kimberly can tell that she is unhappy with the exchange between her and Aaron.

“Watch him,” Crystal says. “He could charm the gown off a nun. Then he will lead that nun to believe she is the only nun in his life, only to find out later that he was sleeping with the whole damn convent.”

“Hmm,” Kimberly says as if she's recalling a dark moment from her past.

“Well thank you for letting me know. Don't get me wrong, there was no interest prior to you telling me that. But it’s just good information to have. I don't have time nor the emotional space for another womanizer in my life.”

The remainder of the session is awkward for Kimberly. She can't help but think of how a manipulative womanizer is the reason she is in physical therapy learning how to walk again. After her session was over, she was so preoccupied with her thoughts that didn't realize Aaron was speaking to her. He too, had just completed his session and was on his way out.

“Kimberly!”

The sound of her name snaps her out of her reverie.

“Yes?” she says responding to hearing her name rather than who said it. She immediately becomes emotionally defensive once she realizes who it is.

“Yes, Aaron? How can I help you?”

“I didn't realize you were in a wheelchair too.”

“How did you miss that?” she says smirking at him.

“Well, when I met you, you were sitting in a regular chair.”

“Yeah well Crystal was helping me learn to walk again.”

Aaron is aware that she's being short with him.

“Crystal told you about us, didn't she?”

“What makes you think that?” Kimberly snaps back at him.

“I can tell by the way you're speaking to me. You're a completely different person from the one I met earlier.”

“Ok, I'm just going to be completely honest with you Aaron. I was on the phone breaking up with my womanizing ex when I got in the accident that led to me not being able to walk. And I just can't take another womanizer in my life. I…”

“Well, you're in luck, “he says cutting her off. “I'm not a womanizer. I mean, at one point I was. But not anymore. I'm just at a different place in my life right now. I regret how I treated…look, I'd rather not have this conversation in the lobby of the office where my ex works. There's a coffee shop next door. If its ok with you…”

“No! It's not ok with me. I don't need you trying to woo me over coffee.”

“I promise you that's not my intent,” he says sincerely. Like I said, I'm at a much different point in my life. I've lost everything. Even some of the closest people to me. Right now, I'm not looking for a relationship, or even someone to date. I'm just looking for a friend. Someone who can be there as I'm learning to walk again. Then to walk with me once I'm able to. And who better than someone who is in my shoes?”

For a moment Kimberly has a flashback of how Robert used to hurt her, then charm his way back into her good graces. But this was different. This man had a life-altering incident that changed him. Suddenly, it dawns on her that she doesn't even know what that life-altering incident is, and she becomes slightly intrigued.

“Ok. We can have coffee. But that's it.”

“Thank you,” Aaron responds feeling relieved. Ok, follow me.”

He turns around and heads out the door as she follows closely behind him. It’s a very short trip to the coffee shop. So short that it didn't leave time for them to converse before arriving. When the waitress sees them enter the shop she immediately motions them towards a table. Then she removes two of the chairs.

“How are you folks doing today?” she says in a pleasant tone.

“We're doing well,” Kimberly responds. I'll take a cup of coffee please.”

“Sure thing honey. And for you sir?”

“I'll take the same. Thank you,” Aaron replies.

“Ok, I'll be right back with your coffee.”

As soon as the waitress walks off Kimberly begins her line of questioning. She doesn't want to waste time beating around the bush.

“So, what happened? How did you end up in the wheelchair?”

“Well, I was in a relationship at the time, but I was at another woman's house. My girlfriend was calling me back to back, but of course I was ignoring her. I eventually checked my text messages and there were about fourteen sitting in my inbox. All from her. Another woman that I was seeing had called her and said that she was pregnant with my child. Well, I told the woman I was currently with that I had to leave. I rushed out of there, hopped on my motorcycle, and quickly sped away. On my way home it began to rain and I ended up losing control of the bike. When I woke up my girlfriend was next to my hospital bed. She looked down at me and asked if I could understand her. I shook my head yes. She then told me that the other woman was lying about being pregnant, and that she only said it because she was jealous. Then she turned around and walked out of the hospital room. And I never saw her again.”

“Wow,” Kimberly responds in shock. “That was kind of heartless. But I can't say that I blame her. So, what made you such a womanizer?”

“Honestly, it started in high school. I played football, basketball, and baseball. I was a jock and girls showed me a lot of attention. It went to my head. Then I went to college and was a star athlete there. That's when I really became out of control. Eventually, I went overseas to play pro basketball and was treated like a celebrity. My womanizing not only affected the women I was dealing with, but also my relationships with my family and friends. I was vain. I was conceited. I thought I was untouchable. Anything that I wanted, I got it. I was on top of the world. But the thing about being on top of the world is it’s a long fall. And when you step on enough people on your way to the top, nobody will be there for you when you fall.”

The waitress returns with their coffee but Kimberly is focused. She has more questions for Aaron.

“While I don't approve of your lifestyle…well, former lifestyle, I do appreciate your honesty and openness. But I'm curious about something. The first thing you asked me was if I was married.”

“No, I asked if you were Ms. or Mrs.”

“Semantics,” Kimberly says giving him a no-nonsense look.

“Ok, ok,” Aaron says conceding. “That was my way of finding out if you were married.”

“Why did you want to know if I was married?”

“I guess old habits die hard. For so many years I had to find out if a woman was married before pursuing her.”

“So, you've never been with a married woman? Kimberly skeptically asks.”

“I didn't say that. It just changed my pursuit if she was married”

“I see,” Kimberly says, clearly thinking.

 Aaron can tell that her wheels are spinning. He has his own line of questioning but she continues before he gets a chance.

“So how hard has it been for your old habits to die?”

            Aaron wants to move on from the topic of his philandering.

            “Not nearly as hard as it has been to learn to walk again. This has been the most humbling experience of my life. But it has also changed my whole perspective on life. That's why your journal touched me so much. I related to everything you said. I guess that is the true answer to your question. That is why I wanted to know if you were married. I had no idea who this woman was, but I knew that I wanted to get to know her. And for the first time in my life there were no sexual motives. I just wanted her to walk with me.”

            Kimberly is touched by his words. She can feel her defenses beginning to lower. Her heart is opening in a way she never believed it would again. And for a moment, she wondered if there could be more between them after they both learned to walk.

            “So, what exactly do you want from me, Aaron? I'm fragile. I can't take much more pain.”

            “Fragility isn't what I heard as you read your journal. I heard strength. I heard determination. That's what I want from you. Someone who understands what I'm going through to be my strength when I'm weak. To be my determination when things become a little too hard. And I can do the same for you…I'll tell you what. I'm going to leave my number with you. If you feel it in your heart to call me, then please do. But if not, no hard feelings. Either way, it has been amazing meeting you.”

            Kimberly smiles as she watches him write his number on a napkin. Eventually her smile turns into a laugh.

            “What's so funny,” Aaron asks confused.

            “Old habits die hard. How many times have you written your number on a napkin in a club and given it to a woman?”

            “I guess I need to kill these old habits,” he says laughing with her. “Maybe you can help me with that also.”

            “I guess we'll find out, IF I call,” she says reducing her laugh to a flirtatious smile.

            “Well I'm going to get out of here. I'll be patiently and anxiously awaiting your call.”

            “You're leaving?” Kimberly asks perplexed. “You didn’t even touch your coffee.”

            “I don't even like coffee,” he responds as he pulls out enough money to cover both cups and a hefty tip.

            “Oh, so the coffee thing was just your ploy to get me over here.”

            “Old habits Ms. Allen. Old habits.”

            They both share a laugh as he makes his way to the door. Kimberly sits there thinking about everything that just transpired. For the first time in a long time a man has put joy in her heart. She doesn't even realize that she's still smiling until the waitress returns to her table.

            “Well somebody is certainly love struck.”

            Startled, Kimberly snaps out of her daydream.

            “Love struck? No. More so curious and intrigued.”

            “Well I watched the way you two looked at each other. It may not be love now, but one day.”

            Suddenly their conversation is interrupted by the sound of screeching tires and screams. They both look towards the window. The waitress runs to the front door to see what happened.

            “Oh my God,” she yells at Kimberly. “It's your friend. He was hit by a car.”

Greener Grass

“I hear you when you tell me you love me. I hear you when you tell me that I'm beautiful, sexy, and desirable. I just don't see it. I stare at myself in the mirror every day and I don't see anything worth a second look. And I hate to re-open an old wound, but even though it’s been over a year since you cheated on me, its still crushing.  Crushing, yes because of the betrayal, but also because of the way those girls looked. Three different girls that all looked as if they walked right off of a runway. Clearly, you have a type, and I am not it. So yes, I hear you when you tell me that you love me, or that I'm beautiful, sexy, and desirable, but I just don’t see it.”

“I'm assuming that speech was meant for me.”

Kimberly had no idea that Robert, her boyfriend of five years, was within earshot. She had spent the past thirty minutes standing in front of the mirror practicing how to deliver her soliloquy. Everything from her diction and phraseology, to using strategically placed inflection on certain words to awaken emotion. This is her normal routine before sharing her thoughts and feelings with him, but this is the first time she had ever been caught. Luckily for her, this was the first time she delivered it exactly the way she wanted. But unfortunately, there was so much more that she wanted to say that she can't seem to remember.

“I can't express enough how sorry I am for hurting you,” Robert says remorsefully. “You deserved so much better. But I mean it with every part of my heart when I tell you that the way those women looked had nothing to do with me having a type. I didn't find them more attractive than you. I never believed the grass was greener on the other side. I just felt like jumping the fence. Why, I honestly couldn't tell you. I can't give you an answer that will make sense. But I can tell you that you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

“I don't,” she says shaking her head. “I'm afraid of what I would see. I'm afraid that I would see me through your eyes the same way I see me through my eyes.”

“So, you think I'm lying?” Robert asks defensively.

“Yes. But it’s a beautiful lie. And I need that beautiful lie, because the ugly truth is too painful.”

Robert searches both his heart and mind for the right words. He is also searching for the right amount of words. In the past, whenever he became too talkative it was usually to cover a lie. But he is now faced with responding in a manner that she will only see as a lie. A beautiful lie, but a lie nonetheless.

“Why do you think I cheated on you?”

“Because I am overweight.”

“That wasn't the reason. My infidelity was solely based on my selfishness and lack of self-control.”

“It's hard for me to believe that,” she replies as she unsuccessfully attempts to hold back tears. “But it’s a beautiful lie, and I appreciate it.”

Robert reaches out and takes her in his arms.

“I love every inch of you,” he says wiping her tears. But would it make you feel better if you lost weight?”

“Yes. I want to look like one of your runway mistresses. You said you never believed the grass was greener on the other side, but I believe if I lose weight then you and I will both see just how green that grass is. I'm not looking at those other women through rose-colored glasses. I see actual roses. They are roses in greener grass. And I'm not even pretty enough to be a rose that grew from concrete. So yes, I will feel better if I lose weight.”

Robert is taken aback but knows how important it is that he supports Kimberly. There are no words to undo the pain that he has caused, so he stops searching for them. He instead chooses to encourage her to make the changes she feels she needs in order

to be happy.

“You have my full support,” he says kissing her forehead. “I will be here every step of your weight loss journey.”

“Thank you,” she replies pulling away from him.”

“Where are you going?”

“To begin my journey. I'm about to go join the gym.”

Robert smiles at her.

“I'm proud of you baby. I'll be right here when you get back.”

Kimberly grabs her keys and purse, and makes her way to her car. Robert watches from the window with pride. After she pulls out of the driveway he reaches for his phone and makes a call.

“Hey,” a woman's voice on the other end of the phone says in a soft and seductive tone.

Robert's mind is racing as he paces around his living room. He isn't up for greetings or exchanging pleasantries.

“I can't do this with you anymore.”

One year later…

“I hear you when you tell me you love me. I hear you when you tell me that I'm beautiful, sexy, and desirable. I just don't see it. I stare at myself in the mirror every day and I don't see anything worth a second look. And I hate to re-open an old wound, but even though it’s been over two years since you cheated on me, its still crushing.  Crushing, yes because of the betrayal, but also because of the way those girls looked. Three different girls that all looked as if they walked right off of a runway. Clearly, you have a type, and I am not it. So yes, I hear you when you tell me that you love me, or that I'm beautiful, sexy, and desirable, but I just don’t see it.”

“Well that sounded all too familiar.”

Startled, Kimberly turns around and sees Robert standing there with a look of frustration.

“That sounded exactly like the speech you gave me a year ago. One year and eighty pounds to be exact. You told me that you would feel better if you lost weight. And yet, here you are, eighty pounds lighter and still unhappy. So, what exactly is the problem?”

Kimberly is completely caught off guard. She had not yet decided if this was the speech that she wanted to give Robert.

“You weren't supposed to hear that.”

“Well I did,” Robert angrily responds. “So, answer my question. What exactly is the problem? Is it me?”

“No, it isn't you. It's me. I honestly believed the grass would be greener on this side. But it isn't. I'm still unhappy with who I see in the mirror. I get called beautiful almost daily, but I don't see what everyone else sees. When I dropped the first twenty pounds, I couldn't even see it. Regardless of how many people were telling me how good I looked, or how great of a job I was doing. I just couldn't see it. The only reasons I knew I was losing weight was because of the scale, and the difference in the way my clothes fit. But the eye test was always a failure. But now that I'm down eighty pounds, I do see a difference. Especially when I look at pictures from a year ago. I even feel healthier. But when do I start feeling pretty? When do I get to feel like the rose in greener grass? When do I get to feel like the women you cheated on me with?”

“I hate that you continuously bring those women up. But I hate even more that you can't stop comparing yourself to them.”

Robert is walking the line between anger and pity. Part of him wants to storm out of the room. The other part of him wants to hold her in his arms.

“I'm going to share something with you about those women. All three of them knew about you, and each other. They just dealt with it. The reason they dealt with it was because they didn't love themselves enough to walk away from me. You, and many other people looked at these women and thought they were beautiful. But each one of them hated what they saw when they looked in the mirror. I made them feel better about themselves.”

“And how did you do that? By telling them the same things you were telling me?”

“No, by leaving you to spend time with them. It made them feel special. It made them feel wanted because even though I had someone at home, I still made time for them. They were able to momentarily have something that was beautiful. Even though it wasn’t real.”

“Yeah, a beautiful lie,” Kimberly says shaking her head as if she just realized an ugly truth about Robert.

“Yeah, a beautiful lie,” he says in agreement. “All three of them suffer from depression. Two of them have even attempted suicide. They feel that that they are too ugly to be loved. Beauty is only in the eye of the beholder. And I'm sure they wish they could see themselves through your eyes.”

Kimberly looks deep into Robert's eyes as if she is literally trying to pierce the windows of his soul. She has never looked at him in such a manner. Robert is unsure of how to read her and decides that its probably best that he stop talking.

“That look in your eyes as you speak about them is very similar to the look you have when you speak about me. Up until this very moment I thought it was passion. But it isn't passion. And the more disappointing part is that it isn't even genuine. Its manipulation. I used to believe that physical abuse was the worst form of abuse. But that isn't the case. Psychological abuse is far worse. With physical abuse, the victim is able to fight back. But with psychological abuse, the victim is controlled, manipulated, and tricked into believing they don't possess the strength to fight. Those poor girls. Those poor, beautiful girls. They never got a chance to see you for who you truly are. They were so busy yearning to feel wanted that they never even realized how green their grass was when you weren't there. And I understand completely because I allowed you to paint the same illusion for me. The irony of it all is that me realizing how beautiful those women are is what made me aware of my own beauty. I have so much in common with them. In addition to feeling unattractive, and being manipulated by you, I also dealt with you seeing other women. A year ago, when you tried to break it off with them, I received a message. First from one, then eventually the other two. You tried to end things with them after we had that talk. I appreciated that. That was the reason I stayed and never said anything to you about it. But eventually you went back to them all. So, I would stay at the gym for hours at a time. Knowing that while I was running on the treadmill, you were running around with them. That treadmill represented so much for me. I was trying to run away from my problems, but I wasn't going anywhere. But I know my value now. And when you know your value it makes it a lot easier to walk away. The grass was never greener on the other side. And I have always, and will always be the rose in greener grass. Now get out of my yard Robert.”