She believed in nothingness as I believed in the universe. She is a peculiar creature and fascinatingly stormy. She was lying half naked in the middle of that bed, staring at me. Her smirk provoked me but I could not move. I was sitting beside her with a paralyzed leg on the ground and the other one half-hanging on the bedside. Her skin was soft and the hays of the sun were creating quite an intriguing form down on her waist. The curtain was covering the other half of the window. The view outside was as magnificent as her sparkling eyes. I turned to look myself on the mirror at the headboard; her shirt fitted me. It was as if I was wearing a part of her. Her glare was hypnotizing. She took my hand into hers and brought it close to her face. I approached to hug her cheek. She inclined her head towards my hand as if she needed to feel me. She blinked hardly and slowly; for a moment I thought she would not open her eyes. The smirk on my face transformed into a straight line. Hers too. Our thoughts aligned, we were both aware about the uniqueness of that moment.
We escaped from the mountains and ran to the sea. The sun had hidden away and tension was dominating in the air. Even the stars were afraid to come out. The universe was absent those moments; she was well dressed but her emotions were completely naked. She was overwhelmed by the sea’s agitation. She was looking at me from the driver’s seat; perhaps a bit lost or disappointed. I did not know what feeling was really dominating in that moment. I felt as if my guts had been filled with sand and I could not breath. I felt a strange need to feel the cold breeze on my skin. The sea was stormy and dark. I had to go back. She said nothing and with the same feeling dominating inside her, she took a sharp curve to get back in the abandoned city. I was still having that nod in my guts. I thought she wanted to escape; I saw her fearful and indecisive. I think she felt the world was not enough to run; words were not enough; her thoughts were disturbing and a continuous loud voice would not let her rest.
The universe had to intervene. She was forced to stop driving. It had no importance why. We were stuck there; on a dark night, by the stormy sea, no human life pondering around, just a few stars on the sky and the harsh sound of the waves hitting the shore. She exhaled madly. The sunrise was an impeccable show of colorful shades; the moon that once was touching the sable line of the sea had been driven away by the marvelous burning sun. The shattering silence had been replaced by minor worries and laughters. In that moment I saw the universe in her eyes. She told me that mine were filled with nothingness; I had hidden my thoughts. I suppose that the love I felt took a little bit of alone time to grow and then it would show up again.
It hurt. The feeling of loss hurt deeply my insides and the most surprising of all was that I did not expect that kind of pain. My head had run wild as my heart and I was impotent of spilling any words. I sat there in silence, torturing myself until I fell asleep. But that wasn’t the solution to my problem. Even in my dreams I had a considerable pain without knowing its’ roots. I thought he was incapable of provoking me such an alternating feeling.
The smell of fresh snow that came in of the window waked me up. Once I opened my eyes the itching in my heart intensificated. My skin was cold and the unscrupulous winter threw at myself another wave of icing air. She was the devil that played with my demons. I got lost into the hell that I had created before, that once comforted me. Who would have thought that my own game will be turned against me!
I have come to the point of loving him and most importantly, needing him. He has become part of my sins and my pleasures. I couldn’t stand my bed without him in it or my arms around my pillow. I needed him to be that pillow, I needed him to warm me up.
The minutes that followed I was tantalising between two options: running up those stairs, risking his rejection and crawling up into his bed or staying there, in the mud of my ego, risking to lose him for good. What would have been more catastrophic; the fact that I tried and it didn’t work out or the bubble-bath with my worse enemy?
I decided to stand up on my feet and close the window. I rushed a jacket over my shoulders and in less than a minute I found myself in his room. He was sleeping and the unpleasanty of his mood was easily heard from the way he breathed. Without even talking I laid beside him and hugged him with my one arm. He opened his eyes slightly and then he closed them. I was gazing up at him desperately, waiting and wanting. With a sudden movement of his body we became two parallel flesh lines and his arm moved around my waist gently. He squeezed me to his chest and I couldn’t keep it anymore. I sighed hardly as if my heart had broken in half and someone had sewed it back together.
For hours I could not sleep. I was just staring at him and somehow feeding my tiredness with his sleeping. I don’t remember when I finally fell asleep too but I remember the time I woke up. He was staring at me and when I caught him, he closed his eyes rapidly.
The weather was even colder and dark as if the skies were preparing their revenge on us.
Her eyes were filled with tears that she obviously tried to hide from the cynical popularity while her bitter heart was beating faster and faster at the thought of her delusional and unhappy reality. Her name did not resemble anymore to her emotional condition. They both formed an oxymoron, making her a sane person that has been locked up into her own internal sanatorium. In her mind there was only one person that could set her free. The whitish walls, the unpleasant clothing and the mass of psychically sick people led her to the conclusion that she was a lunatic like the rest of the world.
I was looking at her neutrally, trying hardly to hide my judgmental and interrogating look. I sensed that she needed space and silence. I would sympathize with her pain if she let me but I did not dare to say a word. Her sadness silenced me and her aristocratic skin froze me away. However, even if she was flooding into that profound sadness, she was notably wonderful and fearless. Behind her sorrows there was a warrior, someone who needed affection and motivation in order to get up on her feet and dazzle the world.
Her ponytail reminded me of a petite girl that had no worries tormenting her soul. Perhaps she was that blithesome child and I was just misinterpreting her piercing eyes.