An unfinished love story

Let me tell you a story.

There was a man who loved a homeless woman. She said she loved him back and they were married. They shared everything. One day, though, the woman decided to move. She liked the work the man had been doing and enjoyed being a part of it, but she decided she would go open her own shop. She stopped being physically present with the man; she no longer shared with him everything. She took some of what had been given to her in her husband’s house with her and built her own house. She kept the name he had given her and still called him her lover, her husband.

She said she still loved him. When he would call, she would sometimes talk with him. They would sometimes talk about work. He would often ask how she was doing and remind her that his place was still her place. She would even occasionally call herself, usually when she needed to be bailed out of a problem or she had a question about work; and he would help. 

 

She said she still loved him. She could talk for some time about his voice, his looks, and that sort of thing, but the closest she got to allowing him to touch her was once a week. He invited her home many times. His door was always open to her; and he would also invite her out to supper. They would meet once a week to sit at the same table. Their eyes might meet, though she was often busy looking around or past him. They might touch fingertips, but that was all.

The woman would say how amazing it was to be his wife and talk about how much she loved him. She would sometimes thank him for the time he rescued her. She would talk about how amazing things were now, and he would listen. He would try to tell her of how much he loved her, but, while she was sure she would be home someday, now was not the time. She might cry about some grievance from the week, but when he would reach out to hold her, she would turn away. She might even complain that he had not been there. 

 

He still leaves his doors open and prays for her return. He calls her to remind her that he loves her. He still goes out to rescue her and take care of problems that arise when she calls, and sometimes when she does not. He still loves her.

She still calls herself by his name that she had taken on when they were first married. She still talks about how amazing he is. She does not accept his body. She rejects his kisses. She insists on seeking her own path. Does she still love him?