Untitled abstract work, acrylic on paper: 60×45 cms by JJBUETTNER – 2016
60×45, acrylic on paper, by ©JJBUETTNER, 2017
When Hendrik drove his car into the driveway that evening, he wondered if anyone, in human history, had ever experienced a worse day. The answer that had certainly been so obvious, but obviously not to find Hendrik on his way home. Not only was it bad, it had been a dreadful day. It also seemed to last ten times as long as any other terrible day before, in the history of bad days.
Hendrik was an assistant doctor at the city hospital and today, on November 14th, 2017, one accident chased the next. The emergency room had been crowded for weeks. Nurses ran around wildly, to assist the nearest assistant doc, wondering who the primary professional was in fact. Bunny was different. Hendrik remembered seeing her name on the board for the first time in the hallway and imaged a blond call girl with rabbit ears. In fact, she was blond but not the „doll“-type, rather the athletic type. For sure, she was exactly Hendrik’s type. She hurried down the hallway like an angel, blinking sweetly at him as he looked up from the patient file.
A smile crossed his face and the moment passed as quickly as he had come.
„A horrible accident in the city center,“ roared a nurse who had just smashed the phone down. „A train has derailed, hundreds are injured and certainly half of them are on their way to us, get ready colleagues,“ roared the chief Dr. Lanz energetically. Exactly from the moment in which the emergency doors of the emergency room had opened and the first injured were pushed in by the paramedics, time seemed to stand still. The minutes crawled by in slow motion.
The success rate of treatments was on a 30/70 ratio. Unfortunately, it was only 30%, for the survivors. Heavy skull fractures and internal injuries were the number one opponent on this game-day for Hendrik’s team.
Despair and helplessness floated in the air. Family members and friends of the injured cried in the waiting areas. Some prayed.
„We are not done, there are more. Go, and wait for the arrivals outside! “ Dr. Lanz yelled right into the crowd of busy nurses and doctors. Hendrik took off and ran outside.
Feeling like a hero trapped in a bad horror movie, as the sliding doors opened and he stepped into the courtyard that was flooded by bright sunlight.
There she stood, Bunny. Bending over a patient who was obviously scared and in panic, she stroked the young woman’s arm as the paramedics began to move slowly towards the emergency room doors.
As slowly as the time crawled before, now fast, with willful force, the next moments lined up. With screeching tires, an ambulance drove into the yard, apparently out of control; he slammed into the group people, including Bunny.
Everything happened so fast, so loud, it shook the ground on which they stood.
Parts of the car flew through the air. Hendrik immediately ran to the car, or what was left of it, once it came to a stop.
His heart was beating loud, cold sweat running down his spine.
Could he still save her?
After reaching the accident site, Hendrik realized that the chances of saving them were less than small. For all involved.
From the driver’s seat of the second ambulance, which had caused the accident, he heard soft whining. He set out to help the driver first.
While caring for the injured man, he saw how more and more doctors arrived on the scene of the accident. There was no rush. A bad sign.
„We have to inform the families. Who’s going to do that? „Said the chief.
Hendrik was leaning against the door of the treatment room. Frozen. He could not move. It felt like he was paralyzed.
„They are all dead,“ he whispered to himself.
„Hendrik, go home. It was a horrible day. A long shift too, boy. „Dr. Lanz pulled him out of his trance.
A little later, Hendrik was sitting on the cold floor of his bathroom.
It was as if he wanted to punish himself for what he had been unable to do: to save them. All. Especially Bunny.
It was the day she met him that her conviction swayed like a fishing boat that should not have been sailing anymore.
There he stood, with his self-assured smile and those sparkling eyes.
Their reflection that they were throwing back was different from what they were accustomed to. He was dominant, that fellow, and before any other man who had encountered her with such behavior, she had said what she thought of it: nothing at all.
She was not a woman who liked to be led. She herself was a leader. Born to be one, encouraged and educated. Her word had always been the first and the last. Much more important: decisive. To some people she seemed arrogant and the older she became, the less disturbed she was by that fact.
When he grabbed her hand and did not let go, she felt different. Could it be his strength, the way he spoke, all he did, that she intimidated? You!
No. She was impressed. Not in a way that you already knew. This feeling sat deeper inside her. As if it had slumbered, only to be brought to life by his presence.
Like a book, he read her, not be afraid to read it from his. As often as she liked. Every chapter, even those which frightened her, and send cold shivers down her spine.
She did not feel like a new person, much more like the one she had always been.
Her own strength doubled, she felt bigger than ever before.
Everything about her, which she did not appreciate, was reversed, relativized by his love.
Admiration she knew. It had been brought up by men whose fighting spirit was so remarkable that it was no different from paying tribute to them all their lives.
Had these sails been in rough sea, she now recognized:
Here in front of her stood her captain.
As he grabbed her hand, a storm raged. Before them lay the sea, wild and impetuous.
Times without strong waves were not in sight and yet they knew their goal:
„Land in sight!“
His arms held her tightly as she closed her eyes.
For an infinite moment she stood there and knew there would be countless coming.
It was this day when a leader found her leader.
„Welcome on board, my love,“ he said, and even in the darkness of the sea, she could see.
Es war an dem Tag, als sie ihn traf, als ihre Überzeugung schwankte wie ein Fischerboot, das schon lange nicht mehr zur See hätte fahren sollen.
Dort stand er, mit seinem selbstsicheren Lächeln und seinen funkelnden Augen.
Ihr Spiegelbild, das sie zurückwarfen, war ein anderes, als sie es gewohnt war.
Dominant war er, dieser Kerl, und jedem anderen Menschen zuvor, der ihr mit solch einer Art begegnet war, hatte sie gesagt, was sie davon hielt: Überhaupt nichts.
Sie war keine Frau die sich gerne führen ließ. Sie selbst war ein Anführer. Geboren, einer zu sein, dazu ermutigt und erzogen. Ihr Wort war stets das erste und das letzte gewesen. Viel wichtiger: Das maßgebliche. Auf manche ihrer Mitmenschen wirkte sie arrogant, und je älter sie wurde, desto weniger störte es sie. Sollten die anderen doch denken, was sie wollten. Schließlich war es ihre Meinung über die Reflexion ihrer selbst, das, was sie ausmachte, die zählte.
Als er ihre Hand ergriff und nicht mehr losließ, fühlte sie sich anders. Könnte es seine Stärke sein, die Art wie er sprach, alles was er tat, das sie einschüchterte? Sie!
Nein. Sie war beeindruckt. Nicht auf eine Art, die ihr bereits bekannt war. Dieses Gefühl saß tiefer in ihr drin. Als hätte es geschlummert, nur um durch seine Anwesenheit zum Leben erweckt zu werden.
Wie ein Buch las er sie, nicht befangen, ihr aus seinem vorzulesen. So oft sie wollte. Jedes Kapitel, auch jene, die sie erschreckten, ihr kalte Schauer über den Rücken jagten.
Sie fühlte sich nicht wie ein neuer Mensch, viel mehr wie jener, der sie immer gewesen war. Ihre eigene Stärke verdoppelt, fühlte sie sich größer als jemals zuvor.
Alles an ihr selbst, was sie nicht schätzte, wurde umgekehrt, durch seine Liebe relativiert.
Bewunderung kannte sie. War sie von Männern erzogen worden, deren Kampfgeist so beachtlich war, dass sie nicht anders konnte, als ihnen ihr Leben lang Tribut zu zollen.
Waren diese Ihre Segel in rauer See gewesen, erkannte sie jetzt:
Hier vor ihr stand ihr Kapitän.
Als er ihre Hand fester griff, tobte ein Sturm. Vor ihnen lag das Meer, wild und ungestüm. Zeiten ohne starken Wellengang waren nicht in Sicht und dennoch kannten sie ihr Ziel:
„Land in Sicht!“
Seine Arme hielten sie fest umschlungen, als sie die Augen schloss.
Für einen unendlichen Moment stand sie so da und wusste, es würden noch unzählige kommen.
Es war dieser Tag, als ein Anführer seinen Anführer fand.
„Willkommen an Board, Liebste“, sagte er und selbst in der Dunkelheit der See, konnte sie sehen.
Only you, my charm, my all.
„You’re the one I’ve chosen,“ I say softly.
My free decision, all that I want.
This Love does not only seem infinite,
it extends every day,
through our gloomy valley,
which we, for right now, call our life.
I knew it would be hard,
saw it, the stony path ahead.
The monsters, they lurk, hate,
each one of our successes.
Malicious grins, about any setback,
that hits us.
Moments of farewell forever
burned in my memory.
tattooed on my heart,
cut into my skin, with a rusty blade.
Never was I happier,
never, no hour in my
Life, sadder than right at this moment.
Love leaves us no choice.
It breaks over us like a fire.
Since that day we have been burning.
You and me.
Love makes the choice we believed we had.
And when the flames strike high.
There is no choice at all.
In which picture does this quotation of the liberated love, which animates us, make sense to us? Some say it is the gesture of trust, not freedom itself.
Others believe, love should always mean freedom, too.
By the release, the great love returns to us. What, however,
made liberation necessary? Maybe we love so desperately, so suffocatingly and engaging that only the wearing of a straightjacket could imitate that kind of love. We do not leave a centimeter of space, literally rob the other one of their oxygen. We are always there.
However, there is also that kind of love that needs neither freedom nor return.
Romantic? Yes. Reasoned and not true? Not always.
This love that makes us feel free. Simply because we found what we needed.
We were not searching at all. At least that’s what we say and even as our lips form the words, our heart sings another song. The “ you are the one I’ve been looking for my whole life“ -Evergreen.
„At last we are united,“ the lyrics continue. Rounded off by „Never again
I want to be a day without you, „in our chorus.
Love of my life. Us. Forever.
What kind of love is the true one? The ultimate real?
In a world where a „standoff“ is seemingly unacceptable, there is still no winner
People love. Differently.
Do you know the feeling of being in debt with your destiny?
Actually, that kind of feeling that comes to us when we are particularly very happy.
Some will say this goes along with the value we give ourselves, our
Self-esteem, so to say. Most people would think, a person who’s able to find self-love to some degree must be able to accept the positive things in life. Without this negative, bitter aftertaste. Allegedly.
Isn’t it true, that we constantly tend to overlook “everyday happiness” in our lives?
Our health, as one part of it, only noticeable once something is wrong. All these days, months, and years that we felt perfectly fine are just really important when they seem to be over, though, hopefully only temporarily.
The gratitude and thus the fear, that something bad could follow, rises as soon as the experience goes beyond this „everyday happiness“ is a real thing.
A promotion that results in more self-realization and a reduction in financial fears. We are honest, grateful. Also, proud of our own achievements. Maybe?
When to expect the unpreventable “slap in the face”, for all positivity? We await and expect exactly that.
Dramatic it is, the naked fear, something terrible might happen.
Something inexpressible. Right now, all of us “part-time superstitious believers” would have to knock on wood three times, only to prevent any of these terrible situations.
Yes, it is precisely this fear that surpasses us, in case we belong to the fortunate ones, who have no doubt they found their „forever“- love for themselves. The person you can call “mine” without sounding like a freak or silly romantic. Every single look of love, even after the initial infatuation, of having a crush on someone, had already disappeared but was gradually replaced by something greater, stronger: True love.
This overdose of love and feelings that no other human being ever felt. Emotions, that cannot be observed from the outside, cannot be modeled. This precious gift, only existing between both of you.
There’s only one possible answer: It must be something terrible.
The loss of this, your person.
Having another loved one get hurt? The loss of your own life?
Do you have a balance with your destiny? Your accounts in a plus?
I hope not. Let’s pray for balance, the number zero in your account of life.
While I think about the best thing that ever happened to me, I knock on wood. Just to make sure, exactly three times. Trusting that the interest rate for my repayment, that I pay back in small rates, is not going to rise.