Determined not show her pain, she decided to leave.
She didn't care that it was late, she didn't care that she had
nowhere to go, she just couldn't take his drunken ravings
any more.
He may be a fantastic piano player, but he is a lousy and
mean drunk, she thought to herself.
As she was gathering her coat and scarf she could her him
opening another wine bottle.
Don't say a word, just leave, she told herself as she put on
her coat and scarf. Hurriedly she ran down the three flights of stairs to
the ground floor.
When she opened the door to the street she was met by a chilling
wind and a heavy rain. Great. She could feel her resolve to ''overcome''
beginning to wean. Tears were not far away either. Get a grip, she
told herself, but somehow she seemed unable to move.
Pressing her back in to the closed door behind her, she was able to avoid
some of the rain, but not all. But then, what did it matter? Rain or tears, it
made no difference, the result was the same. Her face was getting wet.
Actually, she thought, if feels quite good to not have to hide my tears.
She closed her eyes. Then, as if out of nowhere, she suddenly heard a voice.
Excuse me, but are you alright?
She opened her eyes and standing before her was a cab driver.
Are you alright?, he asked again.
Kind, he seems kind, she thought. I could do with a little
kindness, but should I really tell a stranger that I feel broken,
sad, lost and lonely? Does he really want to know if I'm
alright or is he just a creep?
She looks him up and down, ....probably middle-aged, in cab-uniform, tidy,
kind eyes, and he had a genuine look about him.
No, I'm not alright, to tell you the truth, she finally answered.
As if he had heard her thoughts he answered:
In case you wondering whether I am creep or some sort
of shady person, I want to tell you why I am standing here asking
you if you are alright. I have daughter back in Bulgaria who
is about your age. I worry about her a lot. If she was standing alone
late at night in rain crying, I would want somebody to be kind to her,
so that's why I want to be kind to you.
Is that okay answer?
She decided it was.
Please, we step inside to talk, yes?
Together they stepped in to the foyer of her apartment building and
sat down on the steps leading to the elevator.
My name is Yurik, what is yours?
Billie, after Billie Holiday.
Billie, what is wrong?
His voice sounded so compassionate and genuine, that before she knew it,
she unraveled.
She told him of her boyfriend's drinking problem, of how he would
disappear for days, how he would mentally torment her, belittle her,
and occasionally hit her. She told him of her battle with loneliness,
of her dwindling self-confidence and self-esteem. She told him of her fear of
becoming homeless if she left her boyfriend as it was her boyfriend's
apartment she was living in.
Billie, why you not go back home? asked Yurik when she finally stopped
talking.
I no longer have a home Yurik, my family emigrated overseas a few years ago.
For what seemed to her as ages, Yurik didn't respond.
She looked at Yurik and wondered what he was thinking.
Had her last words perhaps upset him since he also had emigrated?
She decided not to speak but to wait for his answer.
Minutes passed and then finally he spoke.
You must make your own home Billie. Home is not building, home
is heart.
You mean, my home is in my heart, Yurik?
Yes, Billie. When I first came to this country, I too was feeling sad
and lonely. I missed my home and my family so much my heart
always aching. I wanted to go back, but politics in Bulgaria
crazy and prevent me from going home. Then one day Yurik
have a good thought. Home is not building, home is heart.
Family exist in heart, heart always with me, so home always
with me. You see, Billie?
She did.
Her home was not with Jan, neither was her heart.
No matter how scary it seemed, she needed to leave
him. Resolve restored, tears dried, she was ready
to begin the journey of creating a new life for herself.
Amazing what a little kindness and a few well chosen words
can do, she thought.
You feeling better now Billie?
Yes, Yurik.
Good. I must go now sorry. I start driving again tomorrow
very early. You will be okay for me to go now, yes?
Yes, Yurik. Thank you so much for being so kind to me.
No problem, Billie.
Yurik stood up, put on his peaked cap and straightened his
uniform. Bye for now Billie, stay strong, he said and then disappeared
behind the slowly closing apartment building door.
Billie looked at her watch. 2:35 am.
My home is in my heart, she said to herself as she started to
walk up the stairs. Each step a step closer to the end one of one life
and the beginning of another.
''The ache for home lives in all of us.
The safe place where we can go as we are
without being questioned.''
(Maya Angelou)
about the image: a photo with some editing.
While zooming in on a still life photo I had shot, I discovered
a face in the reflection in the back ground.
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