Camp House

I stood on the wharf, looking out over the river. The morning sun was just peeking up over the tree line and casting it's rays through the small openings of the dew covered leaves. I stood staring at the light that the perfectly round, orange sun shined  upon the water. The water reflected the face of a new day.

Just as my thoughts began to wander, I heard Lenny open the screen door of the camp house. The camp house stood about two hundred feet behind me, on the most beautiful green hill I had ever seen. Everything about this place was paradise to me. I guess that’s why I've never left.

My eyes followed the wharf back to hill where Lenny sat looking at the water. His eyes were fixed on the boat we traveled in on days like today. We had the best of times in that boat, speeding down the river, laughing and singing. We enjoyed one another so much that on many occasions, we were over-taken by our passion for one another,leading us to do what came naturally in the heat of the moment.

I stood motionless, watching Lenny sit and stare, wondering what he must be thinking. He looked so lost and had looked this way since the two vehicle accident that we were in. The accident that left one dead. I knew he must be thinking about that night, the night that he learned he would never walk again. Confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, he has done nothing but sit outside and stare. I’ve watched his weight drop slowly because he refuses to eat. The guilt is just too much for him.

I’ve tried whispering in his ear, the way I always had. I’ve tried passing my hand over his hair, hoping to get a response, but failed. Nothing I’ve tried has brought him out of his depression. I’ve told him time and time again how much I love him, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t hear me and he doesn’t feel me. I wish he would, then I could tell him that I forgive him for the accident that ended my life.