And the healing...

…I want you to put on your pretty summer dress,
you can wear your Easter bonnet and all the rest,
and I wanna make love to you…yes, yes…
and the healing has begun…

“Silly man,” she said with heartbreaking warmth and urgency, “don’t you dare run away.”

She knew him all too well, he thought. He had come to the door but had been, quiet foolishly he hoped, too afraid of a welcome not fond to actually ring the bell.

Their breakup had been awkward and sudden…not from a lack of love but rather from a fear of where their love was on the verge of taking them. Wounded deeply by love in the past both of them were wary of acknowledging what they were feeling and so came the sabotage.

Once they were apart they knew that they had made a horrible mistake but pride and irrational fear of rejection had kept them apart. The rift between them, willfully and foolishly hewn, seemed beyond healing almost as soon as it opened up.

And then she pushed past the fear and wrote to him. And then he pushed past the fear and called her. And they waltzed…at odd angles and with hopeful, wary steps…an emotional dance with each other that seemed to go on for an agonizing eternity.

He showed up at her door, a small bouquet held fast in his hand, a huge lump in his throat threatening to cut off his breath. He was terrified that the light in her eyes that once kept his soul safe and warm would be dimmed.

She had felt his presence before he was actually on her porch. As he drew near to the house she put on the dress…the flowing blue one that he had secretly bought after she had fallen in love with it but had demurred given its cost…and tried to still the thundering of her heart.

“I wasn’t going to run away,” he lied. He looked up and felt himself drowning in her beautiful eyes…and he rejoiced at that. And he rejoiced in the light that he found in those eyes…undimmed, it warmed and made safe his very being.

He stepped forward. She stepped forward. They folded into each other and…tentatively at first and then ardently…their lips came together.

She pulled back and touched his face. “We’re going to be okay now,” she said with assurance as sure as it was it quiet.

He nodded and pulled her close again. “Yes,” he said closing his eyes and thrilling to the fragrance of her hair, the sweet warmth of her breasts, the tender strength of her hand around his neck, “yes, we will.”

She nuzzled against his chest. She listened to the thunder of his heart which was echoing, almost beat for beat, the pounding of her own heart. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the comfort of his arms around her.

They stood there in the doorway, their hearts pounding, their love conquering their fears and then they stepped in. She took the flowers and he smiled at how lovely she looked in the dress and they stepped inside and closed the door behind them. And the healing…and the healing had begun.

“And the Healing has Begun”
words and music by Van Morrison
©1979 Essential Music, BMI