fitful part 2 - finale

Caspar:

sometimes i get scared that she doesn't understand what i really want to say. words never come easily to me and although Audrey is a competent sign language user, there are times when i really wish that i could call out her name and feel the air expelling from my deficient vocal chords into the magnificent sound of her name. i get jealous when people call her name. i am deprived of this privilege, exiled from its wonder, marooned in silence.

like when i hear her rattling her keys as she walks to the door to go to work and i am just resurfacing from sleep, this is one of the times i wish i could yell her name to wait, wait, let me see you before you go. i'd make so much noise; i smashed the bedside lamp against the wall on one occasion and i heard her calling out to me in panic from downstairs, Caspar what's that? i rushed out of bed to the stairs, hands flailing in signs, desperate to let her know that i am fine, it was just the lamp, i just want to see you before you go, i'd buy a new lamp on my way to the office. she blinked and smiled, shaking her head. i did tell you i was going just now, she signed, laughing now and hugged me as i reached the bottom of the stairs.

she opened the door of her car and i heard her phone ring from where i was standing in my pajamas at the door. she already had one foot in the car and she paused there, answering the phone. in the morning sun, in the morning feel of the world, i walked over to her across the porch and buried my face between her shoulder blades, wrote her name in looping letters with my finger on her back, just beneath the right shoulder.

not that i need her to know so much. but because i could not spill out what i feel in words that she could hear, i am always looking for chances to hold her hand, touch her hair, bite her finger, nudge her with my feet, hoping wishing wanting that these contacts would ship the words in my head into hers. writing it down takes the excitement away, text messaging makes it phony. i have to rely on the tangibles - skin, fingers, hand, shoulder blades, collarbones, nose, the whole deal.

because sometimes it disturbs me when people who can speak hurt others with just a word. because sometimes it bugs me how a word can destroy so many years of being together. because what i feel for Audrey couldn't even be worded in all those entries in all the dictionaries.