The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
This poem is entitled ‘The Sick Rose’ and was written by William Blake (1794). It is such a familiar poem but only last week (whilst lazing in sunny Sorrento) did it hit me between the eyes as to what a perfect metaphor it was for my marriage during the time that my beloved husband was shagging Pig Shit.
Interestingly, I have referred to adultery as a can of worms in a previous blog post and am now increasingly warming to the idea of my husband’s adultery as a vile and slimy worm. (Sorry for any worm lovers out there) The rose was my marriage. It looked so good on the outside and I foolishly thought my husband was a faithful and honest man. However, I must admit to pangs of confusion, concern and doubt as the adultery progressed, as the invisible worm found my bed of crimson joy. At the end, when I asked him to leave because he was constantly saying “I can’t be here” I was living in continual bewilderment, fear and pain. His sordid secret, the worm, was destroying the life of our marriage. Then the BIG Truth came out, I saw for myself the disgusting worm that was slithering in the deepest petals of my marriage. It was plump, ugly and blind.
What person in their right mind invites a worm into their marriage? It’s somebody who doesn’t see adultery as a worm. Maybe they see it as a butterfly (life’s short have an affair butterfly) or they underestimate the damage a worm can do to a rose.
My marriage was sick for a year. However it still blooms and I hope that we have learned to protect our precious and beautiful rose.
Image Credit: Rose by antpkr via freedigitalphotos.net