your new face

This morning I saw a face that stopped me in my tracks. It’s only been four years since we met, but at first glance I hardly recognised him.

When I last saw it, that face was sleek looking, happy, settled, at peace with life. His eyes were different. I’ve never seen eyes like that before – even then, in that peaceful frame, they had a depth and an underlying sadness. Looking into them four years ago was what made me realise how much I’d left unsaid the night before.

They were the reason I suddenly didn’t want him to go at all, why I watched that train until it had disappeared from view – and even after that, I stood there thinking how stupid I’d been, before getting back into my car.

Today I saw a new version of that face, looking straight at me. Now the rest of it has caught up with his eyes. The sleekness has gone. There are lines – quite deep ones. It is much, much thinner.

It’s an illustration of recent hard times. I’ve shared them with him in words, but the picture in my head hadn’t really changed until this morning. They are all there now, plain to see – those difficult decisions. The eyes seem bigger, and the expression in them even sadder and more serious. His mouth seems wider, lips set straight, as if in anticipation of more pain.

I keep looking and looking, and now it doesn’t seem so strange. It makes sense somehow. If it were the same as before it would be wrong. In this new face I can read all the anguish as clearly as I have read it in words these past six months.

I can see something else too though, beyond the eyes and the lines and the gauntness. I can see the boy in the mirrored sunglasses who picked a stupid argument. I can see the man who made me laugh so much the other day I ended up smearing black eyeliner down my face. I can also see how, quite easily, that mouth could suddenly widen into a grin, and those eyes sparkle with mischief and glee.

I can also see the face of the man I love more than anyone– all those different faces finally come together into one perfect whole. So in a way it’s not sad at all.