Hamgar & His Love for Elenora – Pt 4
In less than a heartbeat it was done. The Cupid’s, Bertrand’s, tiny arrow was buried deep in his heart.
Cold as deep blue ice. Hot as white hot gold.
From this moment there was no hope of Cupid’s cruelly-barbed steel ever being removed without tearing his heart out with it.
And Hamgar looked up.
And there was Elenora.
And he loved her.
Unrequitably, for he knew Elenora. She was a good woman, a private woman, with a love and a home and family of her own.
From his grey hair to his brown sandals Hamgar was shocked, ashamed and confused.
Hamgar was ashamed because he knew his hair was grey. While Elenora’s hair was shiny and black. She was young. She could not love him, he knew. Indeed she hardly noticed him.
He could not love her. It was impossible.
And yet he did. Suddenly and shockingly he loved her with his entire being.
Hamgar did not know what to do, where to look, what to say. It made no sense. Why Elenora? She was nice; she was friendly enough in her way; he had always liked her. Indeed, from the moment he first met her on the day she joined the workshop he had had that feeling you get, don’t you, when you feel you have known someone all your life, in a pleasant, comfortable sort of way. He had always thought Elenora was pretty, it’s true. And she was clever, it’s also true, with a quick and sometimes wicked wit. Yet these things are not on their own enough to lead to Love.
But the Elenora he now saw was beautiful and wonderful and he longed and ached for her, with his body and his mind; with his heart and his soul; with the parts of himself that we will not mention here.
In his daze he forgot where he was; he did not care where he was. He forgot what he was doing. He cared not at all what his life had been, what his life had meant before this moment. There was nothing else but the wondrous Elenora, standing in front of him, blissfully unaware of what felt to him like the volcanic eruption of his heart.
Desire and Doom tore him between them on their torturers’ rack.
There was no way forward. There was no way back. What was he to do?
Posted: 5 November, 2011 in Australian Values, Culture, History, Life, Literature, love, Sex.
Tags: Bertrand, cherub, cupid, desire, doom, elenora, hamgar, Life, love, love story, love-sick, lust, torture, tragedy, unrequited love