He sat there, playing his guitar as if he were a spirit and it his lyre, losing himself in the journey of the melody through the inner and outer spaces of the mind. Forgotten was the company he shared as his thoughts flowed, merged, rose and fell melding with a sea of tears he kept hidden. The music was haunting, plucking at heart strings both known and lost, a plinking of hopes against the blended chorus of sad memories.
It was to that score she prayed for the man before her, heart sick for the pain he felt and the torture he endured for the sake of those he loved and loved still. Tears tickled the corners of her eyes as she kneeled before him, knowing full well she had been lost amidst the storm singing in his eyes. She gently lifted the brim of the hat he wore as a place to hide his eyes from the searing light of prying eyes, gently kissed his forehead, and tried to meld into the place he had wisped himself away to.
And months later, she prayed still, heartbroken herself for the loss of innocence and the loss of love she felt. She prayed more fervently, begging strength for herself and a man she could not escape, for forgiveness of weakness and confusion brought on by indulgence, asking that she simply keep living in order to protect the child who looked to her.
Still, a few long lived months more, her prayers persisted, drowned in a stronger sorrow yet, needing some hope of life after this one moment and the moment that followed. Eyes lifted into a starless night sky, tears mixing with the rain, she prayed and wondered and beseeched a godless heaven: guidance, perseverance, serenity, protection and hope, for herself and the man she’d lost.
The prayer continues still, from one woman, to her newly re-found God, for herself, for her child, and for a man who had become a dearest friend. She prays still and smiling despite the life she leads balancing upon boundaries.
She will ever, pray still.