Dark Night of the Soul

"No, you don't understand. I can't bear the thought of you dying...I have to tell you this..." She stopped, closed her eyes, finally continued. "This wasn't the first time, or the first man." It started almost 11 years ago, she said, and named nine other men--starting with his then-best friend. He thought his heart would stop. The rage flashed briefly, replaced by hollowness, despair.

"How could you--" He couldn't find any words, sat back down in defeat.

She spoke in a small voice, it hardly sounded like her. "I was 29 years old. My husband didn't want me. He said he loved me, acted like he loved me, but he didn't want to make love to me. I couldn't understand, it was tearing me up inside. What was wrong with me? Why was I no longer attractive? I know, I know...I should have told you, but I just...didn't." He waited, not wanting to hear any more but needing to know.

"The first time was when they sent you to Germany for two weeks. Jack and Donna threw their usual Halloween party. I wasn't going to go, but you urged me go have a good time and tell me all about the costumes and who had too much to drink and did things they didn't want to be reminded of. I shouldn't have gone, because I'm the one who drank too much and did something I never want to be reminded of." When she paused, the silence lay between them like a suffocating cloud.

"I dressed like a hooker, the way I did four or five years ago. I guess my subconscious already knew what I wanted to do. I drank a couple of glasses of wine, then switched to scotch and water. By 9:30 I was pretty drunk and worried that I wouldn't be able to drive home. Then Jack put some music on and asked me to dance. " She was starting to talk faster, trying to get the words out before they poisoned her.

"You and I both knew Jack's reputation, so I should have said no. People had drifted off into the kitchen or living room, only three or four were left in the family room and they weren't paying any attention to us. Nobody else was dancing. The songs were slow ones. By the second one he was holding me so close I could feel his...that he was aroused. He pressed harder, then dropped his hands to my...behind and pulled me into him. I started grinding against it, harder and harder, then I climaxed. Right there, while were standing in the living room."

He realized he had been holding his breath; he tried to start again quietly so she wouldn't know, but she wasn't paying any attention to him, she was trapped in her guilt-ridden memory of that night. She rushed on.

"He could tell, of course. He took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching, then led me down the hall to the bedroom. We didn't even take our clothes off, he just lay me down on the bed, pulled up my dress, yanked my panties aside, and shoved in. I immediately climaxed again and he started plunging in and out, hard and fast. I climaxed two more times before he did." He was numb, wanted this to be happening to someone else.

"I had never climaxed four times. I was exhausted. He lay beside me and started to apologize, but I told him that he had nothing to apologize for, that I was responsible as much as he was. He got up a few minutes later and said I should wait a few minutes before going back in. No one seemed to notice that we'd been gone, and by the time the party broke up at 11:30 I was sober enough to drive.

"Of course I felt guilty. I was afraid to talk to you on the phone because you'd be able to tell I had done something awful, and I didn't know how I could face you when you came back. You never seemed to notice anything wrong, and I began to think it was over. But I couldn't forget those orgasms." She paused again, almost out of breath she had been talking so quickly.

"You don't know what it's like to go without orgasms. You climax on every one of those rare occasions we make love, but I hardly ever do. I used to in the early years of our marriage, but I can't remember how many years it's been since you brought me to climax.

"After a few months I began wishing I could feel that again. I tried to get you to be more passionate, more forceful, but most of the time you simply said no and we cuddled to sleep. So I did it with Jack one more time when you were out of town, in the afternoon at his place. He took the afternoon off and Donna was gone for the day visiting her sister. I made him use the condom I brought." Now she was simply reciting the facts, not confessing. She didn't sound guilty at all.

"From then on, when the need for release would build up too much, I found someone to give me that release. That's all it was. I never kissed them, never cuddled, always insisted they used a condom. Sometimes we would do it twice, but most often just once. If it sounds clinical, it almost was. All I was after was the climax, the orgasm. There was no emotional involvement."

Which was nonsense, of course. They both knew it. Sex may not require love, but fundamentally it's an emotional act, unless one is a sociopath.

"What about tonight? You were gone more than six hours." Now neither was speaking with any emotion, just mouthing words.

"We...we fell asleep. Hadn't meant to. I intended to be home by ten." She was lying. After 19 years he could tell, because she so seldom avoided the truth. It didn't matter.

"I know that I can't...didn't satisfy you. It has nothing to do with how appealing you are; you're still an attractive woman. I'm just not fully a man. We're both tired. We should go to bed, then get up for early Mass."

"Don't say you aren't fully a--"

He slapped the table again, this time with just one hand. "Enough!" He stood up. "We're done."

The breeze blew from the turret

As I parted his locks;

With his gentle hand

He wounded my neck

And caused all my senses to be suspended.

The Mass has ended. Go in Peace.

MONDAY MORNING they rode to the hospital in silence, each lost in their own fears and regrets. He filled out the paperwork, went through pre-op, and blissfully drifted off in the chill operating room.

"My God, look at the size of it! The MRI showed it was large, but seeing it in the flesh like this..." The anesthetist winced at her unfortunate word choice that made it sound like she was joking.

After almost two hours the obscene parasite was cut loose and placed in a tray. Just as the team started to prepare the site for closure, they were startled by strident alarms from the equipment stack. A quick glance showed that his heart had stopped. Not arrhythmia, cardiac arrest.

The anesthetist quickly started administering full-pressure oxygen and lowered the head of the operating table to promote flow of blood to the brain. The lead surgeon took the scalpel from the cardiac arrest tray and opened the chest exposing the heart, then took the wedge from the tray and pushed it between two ribs to give her room to start palpating the now-stilled heart.

After three minutes with no resumption, she called for an injection of 1/4 ml adrenalin and continued palpation. She repeated the call for adrenalin after three more minutes. When that failed after a further three minutes, she ceased palpation and administered electro-shock therapy as a last resort.

The heart stubbornly refused to beat. She declared him dead 119 minutes after the operation started.

Thanks be to God.

I remained, lost in oblivion;

My face I reclined on the Beloved.

All ceased and I abandoned myself,

Leaving my cares

forgotten among the lilies.