Venom Burned Like Fire

She had laid herself bare, exposing the vulnerable throat of her emotions without knowing if he was a predator. He had sat in motionless silence for weeks. No movement. No speech. Nothing that might startle himself.

As he sat motionless she paced and waited, speculated and guessed at what he was thinking or feeling. Anxiety. Fear. Surprise. With each passing day she felt more and more sure that she had shaken the very foundation of his traditional upbringing and he was paralyzed with uncertainty.

It was certainly uncommon, what she had suggested, but even at that she had expected some kind of reply. “Are you crazy?” “Flattered, but no thanks.” “Sure, that’d be great.” Something, anything, would have been welcome.

She’d been patient, a virtue she always struggled with, but finally after three weeks she tested the waters with a tentative toe. She reached out now as she had before, electronically, forming words on a tiny screen with the hope he would finally reply to her.

His reaction was surprising, turning away anything that would link him to her. He refused to help her with her work, which he had always readily helped with in the past. He even severed all on-line ties, removing her from his networking pages.

The weakness of his character was exposed as her feelings had been, and her disappointment was like venom, and that venom burned like fire. In her rational mind she knew that his reaction was rooted in his own issues, and in truth had little to do with her. This didn’t keep her feelings from being hurt, however. She was hurt that he didn’t respect her enough to talk to her, and she was sorry for the narrow view he had of life.

With a deep breath she smiled, knowing she was a resilient woman whose wounds healed quickly, and knowing that there were others who would be open to the joys locked in each possibility.