when the room was bright, the scent was harsh, and dark blood stained the birthing table, they were together.
when the dog was wild and school was new and life was a leaf in the wind, they were together.
through the fog of teenhood, the confusion of feeling, the surging lust for freedom, they remained together.
each one’s hand was made for the other’s, perfect and ready like a mold.
each one knew the soul of the other, better than he knew his own.
in the silence and stillness of night, they would sit together, looking forward, looking up, looking nowhere. “see,” one would say, and the other would turn his head... “look how many stars there are tonight.”
and they would stare.
“i think that’s us,” the other would say. and they both understood. uncountable, unreachable, unstoppable.
in steady time, sorrow and death drew them apart. the sky was gray, the dress was black, and the eyes on faces were dripping. it was not malice which drove the rift, which narrowed the nail in the board...
they were exhausted. they were lost. they had forgotten who slept next to them in that small small bed, who sat next to them on that roof under the moon, fingers raised to meet her, all those years ago.
but beyond trial and pain they found each other again. simple, in the same way they began. born into the world with this person by my side, the only thing i’ve ever known, the only thing it will be.
and so through life, through age, through fallen leaves, they were together, as it was in the beginning, and would always be.
and those leaves on the ground withered to dust, earnestly paving the way for spring.
when she looks at herself she sees vile, she sees shame.
even though in the mirror stands a person who is beautiful.
her features are strong and sharp like the edge of that mirror glass, and her round eyes shine like the light reflected off it.
her hair is as dark as the shadow in the corner, but sun kissed as if by the orange lights above. in small, timid waves, it falls down her sides, twisting and dancing in the wind when she moves.
her body is lean, and slender, and tan, but when she looks at it all she sees is the wideness of her waist, which could be so much slimmer, without a rib or two. she sees the plump curves she does not have, the mass she thinks she needs, the mighty stance her small self wants to build—has to build, in order to be beautiful.
she sees a smile that is wretched, despite the glowing whites of her teeth, the sweetness of her full lips, the crinkle of her wide eyes and the wisp of those black lashes. she has hatred for her nose, which is so much too bold, so much too straight, and in no way perfect and upturned like a doll’s. she hates her face, for she is a gargoyle, a swamp beast, whom no one could ever love.
i don’t care what anyone says. i will never be pretty enough to satisfy myself, and it hurts, because i bully me.
for the way that i am which i cannot change, which i know, deep down, someone finds pleasing to look at.
but not me.
not me, because the ugliest creature is what the mirror shows me.
“i’m sorry.” his voice is tender, sincere.
it shatters me, my chest caving and my hands shaking. i must stuff a hand over my mouth to keep quiet. i thank god he cannot see my face.
hot tears overflow from my eyes unrelentingly. i cant see the walls around me. no words form in my brain that i know how to say, so i just lay, curled into a heap on my bed, holding this phone to my ear, crying. i don’t move. i don’t speak. i don’t breathe.
he says my name like a question, and he is careful, concerned, like he is holding a rose by its stem, conscious of the many thorns.
i don’t know how to respond to him. “yeah,” i choke out. “i’m... i’m here.”
“are you okay?” he asks with some uncertainty. he is tentative. i can hear the guilt he feels.
this sets loose a tumult of emotions within me, all vicious with teeth and claws and thundering like a breaking wave in a storm. the tears feel like they will never stop, soaking my face and the sheet beneath my head.
no, my mind cries, i’m not okay.
i want to say, i haven’t been okay since i realized i love you.
but i am silent, my face scrunched painfully in anguish. all i can do is nod very quickly even though he cannot see.
“yeah...” finally, i say it. it is the largest lie i have ever told.
there is silence between us for a few moments. i can just hear him breathing through the phone.
“when do you go?” i ask.
“Monday.”
i crumble.
“i’m... i’m so happy for you. like seriously.” i laugh at myself. “but it’s gonna be weird in class without you.”
he chuckles. i know exactly what he’s thinking. “nah, you’ll get through it.”
i quip, “of course i will” with a sarcasm he will recognize well. i know he will not feel so horrible if i am the me he has always known again, though it takes all of my strength to do this for him.
he clicks his tongue. this is our game, our unique little way of communicating with each other that always results in one of us left speechless, usually me, and the other laughing. i have never been this way with anyone. so combative, stubborn, playful. i think, as i ponder it now, now that he will be leaving and i will not see him again, that i did it so i could hear his beautiful laugh more.
my face contorts, and the tears are spilling freely again. i will miss that laugh the most.
we share a silence that is comfortable. i believe he is waiting, i’m not sure for what—or perhaps i am waiting, for him to say something that will get us talking, joking. something that will make it seem like he isn’t leaving. anything, just to hear his deep voice mingle with the quiet.
there is an elephant in the room, barely fit inside, so gargantuan and unfortunate that it burns in the back of my throat, clogs it. i know he feels the same. this has never been just about him moving away. he did not tell me he was sorry because of that. he said it because he knows that i love him, and he has known. but i am a coward and he is a poor boy who does not reciprocate my feelings, caught up in our friendship which he enjoys, but unsure how to continue pursuing it without hurting me. it does hurt me, but i could never fault him for that. not while loving him as much as i do.
so i say nothing of this elephant. like always. he is leaving; there is no point to it now, when i would only be more hurt if i did.
the silence breaks when he says, “well, i should head out.”
i smile and lie, “yeah, me too.”
“night.” he says my name, using my nickname that sounds best from his mouth.
“night,” i reply.
he hangs up first.
when he is gone and i am alone i lay for a moment. flashes of all that was said and all that was not flood my mind. the sound of crickets outside beats down on me until i am sobbing again, like a child, into my arm.
his laugh sings in my mind like a melody. i savor it while i can remember.
day by day i feel it invading, this sticky darkness that brings pain.
and day by day i’ve been contemplating the growing fog in my brain.
who am i now? who am i now? i think i’ve lost sight of me. for i say things now and i do things now that have made me the enemy.
soon i will be swallowed whole, smudged by its cold, cold finger.
the drugs, the aches, the love, the world, now nothing of me shall linger.
when i imagine life without your influence i feel a drop in my stomach that is gripping and dreadful. where would i be now if not for you for all the many things you’ve told me, shown me, done with me, which helped me grow into who i am at this moment?
throughout my life you have been a place of warmth and solace when i had none. your quiet sureness has always provided me strength when i need it, and your embrace is so plush, so secure, that a simple hug is enough to draw tears from my eyes, every time.
i do not know how to explain the person you’ve been in my life. sister or mother is not enough. you are home.
the thought of anything bad ever befalling you twists and beats at my insides until i feel anger, and must shake it away. in that case i cannot imagine what i would feel-i do not want to. the explosiveness of heartbreak and the suffocating gray of having lost the rock of your life. i love you more than anyone. life without you is not worth living to me.
