Desperation

No answers. No assurances. No promises of the future. No telling whether the next meal will find its way to our table. No telling whether the roof over our head will be there come morning. No telling whether the fragile family we have formed will last beyond tomorrow. All we are being left with is the hope that what the future brings will be better than what the present holds.

There is love. Yes, there is love. But it is being drowned slowly under a thousand daily pressures, each more urgent than the last.

There can be no denying that the hardest of times are upon us. I can see it reflected in her eyes every time I look at her. I can see the pained look. I can see the thoughts of worry, and the slow rise of panic that threatens to overtake her. And yet still, somehow, she endures. When frustration and anguish finally gives way to exhaustion, I can see her staring back at me with eyes filled with worry and fear, comfort and love.

I can only imagine what she sees in my eyes. I pray that she sees the confidence that I wish I could believe. I pray that she senses my commitment to give her everything that I can till I have nothing left. I pray that she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, the deep and unending love that I have for her.

But most of all I pray, dear God I pray, that she does not see my desperation.

©2002, David Paul Guzmán. This work may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the author.