“Have we met before?” You asked, with a hint of smile in your voice and your hands trying to find my hair to play with. I kept my eyes closed and smiled, and nodded my head. He had found the perfect strands to play with and I was letting him; even though I hated having my hair touched. I let him.
“I think.. I think that I have met you before. Somewhere so beautiful. It’s Yellow and Purple and the sky is the Bluest shade of blue there is and the sun is out and so are your shades and your wearing white because white has always been your colour and in a field of poppies or daisies.. or lavenders.. you knew that white could not hide. Do you remember meeting me there?” He had now found my shoulders and was drawing circles on them whilst tracing soft touches along my neck and my spine.
I didn’t know if I was dreaming of if he was dreaming and I was part of his dream, but I wanted to hear more and I could wake up from this. I let him stroke me and I smiled again and whispered, “I don’t think we’ve met. I don’t think that that was when we met. I think you saw me in a dream.”
He laughed, so low and soft that if I wasn’t lying so close to him, I probably would’ve just thought that he had exhaled. But he laughed and placed his hand on my face. He said, “But you are my dream. You are the one that I have dreamed about. These moments with you are what dreams are made of.”
I opened my eyes and our eyes finally met for the first time that night, and he was right,
We had met before.
.I sense a change. I sense the change that is taking over us. This change is in the wind. I can feel it in your presence but so much more in your absence.
You’re not there anymore. I look around.. And You’re not there anymore. Not asking me how my day went. or making me laugh or sitting across from me and texting me or flashing me a smile across the room or just sitting in silence with me.
You’re not there anymore. You’re not around. You took a step back.. a few steps too back and there’s not a lot left for us left for us with you standing all the way there and me standing all the way here waiting. This distance between us engulfs me and drowns me in only one word.
“It makes sense you know, the way you are and the way you look at things; they way they should be versus the way that they are. This actually isn’t that hard to comprehend once I understand where you’re coming from. You’re a whole lot of.. actually the sum of all of your memories. A collection of all the years and the memories and the moments and the places and things and feelings all at once; a manifestation of all of the years of your life in one. You are are this one tiny little human being holding onto the weight of a thousand Yesterday’s that you wish you’d have never had and you are the constant surge of hope and possibility for a tomorrow that you do not know of. But do you realize what’s wrong?
Darling, you are not in Today. You are here standing in front of me but you are not standing in front of me. In your mind’s eye, you are in that resort that you visited three years ago with your little sisters and you are also on that field with the wild ducks chasing after you and you yelping and screaming out of fear and humour. You need to be here, my love. I know that the possibility of a tomorrow is the best one that we have been given and I understand that some Yesterday’s outlive us our whole lives but what you need to realize is that none of them have the power that you hold right now. You right here hold the most supreme power of them all; you possess Change. You possess the ever lasting ability to stand your ground and sway with the wind and dance to the tunes that only you hear and sing to a bee song. You right here are Right Here. Say those words out loud and let them sink in so far deep within, that you can’t forget hem even if you tried.
And if someday’s your Today becomes hard to live through then know that the comfort and solace of my arms will forever await your embrace and they will hold you close until sundown and sunrise again; where we shall start a new possibility together; maybe.
“I am yours, don’t you see that? Everything I am and everything I will ever be; that is all yours, my Love. This is all of me and now all of this is as much Yours; if not more, than it was ever mine. You might not understand, but everything I do, reminds me of you. Everything I see, I imagine seeing it with you. Every time i listen to good music, i think of telling you about it so we can dance to it and every time I dream a dream at night and it doesn’t have you in it, I wake up a little disappointed. I want you, I want us, all of us and all of the friggin time. It is so bizarre imagining a life before you were here and It is almost impossible to NOT have you hereafter. And I am so scared that I more Yours than I am Mine and I feel like I can never reclaim my bits from you anymore and that petrifies me because what if you don’t want some parts of me and I can’t have them back and you decide to toss out in the trash. What then?
Everyone talks about the beauty and the happiness that comes with love, but no one talks about losing yourself to the person. Nobody talks about how possessed you feel and how Powerless that makes you feel. You are not in control anymore. And the fact that I am readily giving up that control and power into your hands with the key to my heart to you is a bigger deal than you could ever possibly imagine. This isn’t me. I am not mine anymore. I am yours and I am doing what I cannot control anymore. This; Me.. Is All You.
And I am afraid. I am so afraid and I am devoid of air in my lungs. And what if you wake up one morning and you don’t want me anymore and you decide that out there is where you belong and all I am is just a mere reminder of how much heavy weight exists in your life. And maybe you won’t ever want to see me. What then? How do I walk again? How do I ever step out again?
“You don’t understand. Please, step back. I’m actually a gigantic, walking “Warning! Hazard Ahead” Sign and you should be able to read this. I thought that you were smart enough. ”
He laughed, not like it was funny but at the absurdity of this whole situation. Two months ago, he didn’t even know who he was and now he was standing still but somehow still tumbling on his thoughts. Constantly thinking about this girl who had somehow gone on to define him.. who had cleared his fuzzy view and made him see him for himself after the longest time and this was all he had ever wanted. It came a bit early in his life but he didn’t mind it, not one bit. And now, here he was, offering everything he had and everything he would ever go on to achieve to this Beautiful Girl and she wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t take him and end his misery. He was getting so tired of these excuses and these lies and the little ways in which she pushed him so far away; almost as if she liked it when he was far away. But he knew better.. he wanted to be right now more than ever.
He said, “What don’t I get? That you’re fucked up? Well aren’t we all. Its always someone, the brother, the dad, the mother. There is always someone who breaks us a little on the inside and as we grow up, the breaking gets harder to fix and the cracks run deeper than the surface and there’s only so much glue and tape and pins that can hold messes together. And we grow up and older and we try to push these things away in a little corner that we often revisit, but for the most of the day, we shove them aside and kind of learn to live with the little good that we did see.” He held her by the arms, looked her in the eye and said, “It’s okay, we are all broken. I am broken too. Maybe not as much but a little bit. Now come, lets find all the broken places and touch them so we can be a part of each other’s broken memories and maybe that will make this better.”
She looked at him. These words made sense. His words make complete sense.. but she didn’t think that he deserved to witness this much sadness and darkness. ” No, but you don’t understand. It gets really dark in my head sometimes. There are times that I cry when nothing’s wrong and there are times when I lay in bed for hours thinking of the future and the past and everything in between and I am paralysed by my own thoughts and I don’t eat and I don’t sleep and it gets very dark and lonely and that’s something i don’t ever want you to have to see or go through with. This head of mine, it loses itself in a labyrinth made my itself and I am not in charge anymore and I want to make this stop but I can’t and you shouldn’t have to step in right now.
He looked at her and said, “Im ready and I want to step in. I want to touch the cracks and the scars. Take your time. Show me bit by bit, but my condition is show me. Show me and don’t back down for an actual shot at something here. Don’t back down and if you want to talk or someone to cry with or someone to lay down with, I am your guy. “
I felt a sudden sinking sensation, I always did, at around 2:09 am. The end seemed very plausible and very close at this time. The sky is always dark and these days, the moon doesn’t face my balcony which only adds to my suspicion.
I can see it, I can constantly see my life passing by. Its always flashing past me and I am witnessing it as I’m living it, as twisted and interstellar like that may be. I constantly feel like I’m not doing enough to make this count.. that my remains will account for nothing but a name. There are times when I want to scream and bang and yell and jump up and down until the whole neighbourhood is awake and i have somehow marked a day in their lives and in mine.. kind of etching myself into everyone’s lives.. for one fleeting moment. Something so big and momentous or tiny and miniscule.. something that captures the essence of being here. Something that is unabashedly me and that calls my name. Something that would make my friends shake their heads with smiles on their faces and say “Only she, only She would do something like this” and for everyone else who wasn’t my friend; get them wondering.
Yes, this seems very Augustus Waters like but I don’t understand whats so wrong in wanting to be remembered and making an effort in order to do so. Leaving a mark is essential and not all of get a chance to.
And is where Hazel would interject (somehow, only profound things came to her) “Am I not enough? Is leaving a mark on me not enough?”