You made your home inside of me. You started slowly, placing brick by brick and fixing those bricks with cement and water. You came close, sometimes too close and sometimes; not close enough. You were there, enchanting and then you were gone. Your eyes would meet mine and for the rest of the night, I would search for my favourite pair. Then there were doors. There were tiny creaking doors and large doors with no handles and no locks. And suddenly you were everywhere. Your eyes were the only pair and your shoulder was the only one I wanted rubbing against mine. Your breath was synced with mine and your days were now ours. Your home had windows, windows that would open with no locks and windows that would stay open through the night. You’d walk in and grab by the hand and take me out for hours. We’d be by the sea one second and staring at the stars next. There was no limit to and there were no questions asked. Your home was chaotic and calm with a hint of lavender perfume in the air and a voice in my ears which always made my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck rise and that’s when I Knew that you should never build Homes in people because when you start slamming doors and shattering windows and painting the walls from red to blue and from blue to a pale grey, it Crumbles.
It crumbles beneath the sheer pain of abandonment and loss. It stands there on its bricks and mud trying to hold the life it contained within it, only to find that you can build Houses but sustain them with Life and only then can they become Homes.
I was Home and when you left, the doors broke off of their hinges and the ceiling crashed against the wall. There were shards of glasses everywhere. There were mirrors and frames and photographs and records and posters of your favourite 70’s rock band and that the last remnant of your most worn hoodie and your mother’s jewellery box which always had my ring. They were there but not anymore. They shattered under the agony of hearts falling apart and fates falling together and only then did I chant, “Never build homes in people, because they will burn and break and you will leave the four walls barely standing”.
You left a flight at risk without a fear of falling.
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?”
I waited. I waited outside the parking lot of that old convenience store, the one where there was always that old,red, beat up truck parked, that hadn’t been moved in ages; thats where I waited. I waited there until dawn and then a little bit more after that. I waited until I knew inmy heart of hearts that this was an ending of some sorts.. and also the beginning of something different. Something that would shake the very core of being. Something that will take hold of me and shake things up around here because I didnt realize how much time I spent wandering around these little niblets of you. Every room I entered, I looked for you or at least traces of you. Every sound that I heard, I waited for that crackle that your laugh always made. My eyes and ears and nose were friendly and quite aware of your presence in the room and in your absence.. they too went a little dormant. So I waited. Everywhere I went, I ended up waiting. And nothing was different about that night.
I waited where we had decided that I would wait for you and I knew that this was going to be one of those big, gigantic moments in life which were going to define us in more than one way. It seemed like one of those big moments where you knew they were big even before they happened., and that was so beautiful. And I waited to be defined by you during this moment and you did.. you actually did define me in that moment where you decided to not show up. You defined me as somebody who was heartbroken and in love and was left to pick his pieces up, all of them; even the ones that he didn’t like and walk away. You defined me as someone who; no matter how awful the situation, would walk away from a toxic relationship. This was toxic not because you didn’t show up that night but it was toxic because somehow I always wound up waiting for you and you somehow never showed up. You always kept me waiting and I always waited.
In that moment, you defined me as someone who walked awwy. Who put an end to the waiting and finally, FINALL Y walked away from a lifetime’s worth of waiting and not saying anything about it. So, Thanks for yet another defining moment.
It may not seem like a lot, but I think about you. I think about you even when I shouldn’t and I honestly think about you a whole lot. Not in a creepy way, but in the kind of way where I can spend my whole day thinking about you and still not run out of things to think about; in the kind of way which is Consuming. just imagining the little details about your face or all of your moles or just the way that you are constantly laughing with all of your mouth just gaping open and for the world to see, making the whole room laugh around you and if you are going to live, Live in a way that is going to effect everyone around you.. live so that others have a reason to as well and live a whole and true life just for yourself.
And if you ever read this and if you ever find that you are thinking about me too, even in the slightest bit or even in the tiniest little thing that you come across in the street, then please don’t be a coward like me. please don’t just stare and wait for some hurricane to swing us into each other’s arms. Please don’t be me when you can be you and you can come and say that you think my shirt is cool or that hey, have you listened to Bastille’s take on the Scrubs or anything, but if you ever see what I do between the two of us and if I am too late by then, then please by all means, go ahed and do what I couldn’t and do what I have always wanted to.
And you never realize how important her constant humming is. How the deep and peaceful breaths she takes while asleep are the reason that you slip into sleep as well. You never understand how truly important it is to come to a home that is overflowing with her scent and her things strewn about and her socks in two different corners and the contents of her handbag all over the table; probably looking for a tissue which had an important phone number. You never realize how crucial it is to get that midday text or call, to be reminded that she is on the other side, always thinking and worrying about you. You never stop and wonder how important she is until she’s gone for days at a time. When the house smells like the sun and the place is spotless and the doors are shut and the bed is empty. And the missing consumes you.