Standing at the airport, she just didn’t know what to expect. Ten thousand thoughts ran through her head. How was she supposed to act? What was she supposed to say? How’s he going to look like? Did he change? And all she could do was wait. And so she did. Until he walked in, surprisingly, looking rather worn out. Yet as she looked closely, she noticed his mismatched clothes, his messed up hair, and the baffled expression on his face.
She watched him fight his way around the place, bumping into people from time to time, and quickly apologizing almost brought tears to her eyes. But standing there, she couldn’t bring herself to walk towards him, and she knew he’d never find her. Something in her told her to go back to where she came from, she didn’t have to go through this and her mom had told her earlier that she’ll always have another home at their place. Yet the bigger part of her urged her to stay, and so she just stood there, silently watching her lover. He still had the same beautiful smile she had once fallen in love with, and the ocean wide, sea blue eyes she admired. His jet-black hair had grown longer, rather messy but she loved it still. It was him, it was really him. Still him. Nothing had changed. Except she couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t have that same confident walk he used to have. His walk was more like, a stagger. And it almost seemed like he wanted the ground to just swallow him. He didn’t like the new him. But she did. And she’ll love him forever. She watched herself fall in love all over again, yet she knew, that this time would be different.
Finally, she made her way towards him with a smile, her heart beating faster.
“Baby..? It’s me..” she gave him a soft pat on the shoulder.
“Where?” he turned to face her. “Am I facing you?”
“Yes sweetie, you look great.” She forced out a smile.
“I don’t know..” he sighed. “you must look great too.”
She quickly leaned over and pulled him towards her, giving him a hug she knew was just what he needed. He pulled away reluctantly and started to walk away.
“Let’s go home.” He said.
Baffled, she didn’t know what to say. A soft “yes” was all she could manage.
Then.
She sat, her hands crossed together, leaning forward towards the mist. It was a bitter cold afternoon, quite late in December. She put her camera away and breather in, her eyes focused onto the zenith of the mountain. A stunningly beautiful scene it was. She closed her eyes for a moment, pleading for peace. A quick shudder ran down her spine for suddenly a chilly wind had sprung up. As she breathed out, she saw fog-thickening circles spinning in the air before her. She rubbed her hands together, seeking warmth. My gloves, she remembered. She reached out for her bag and took out a pair of soft black gloves.
She tightened the knitted red scarf around her neck, as if wishing it would make more layers to warm her shivering body. It was then when she heard him. It was then when she heard his mournful voice, as he sang those laments with sorrowful words. She heard his voice rise, as if he was trying to pray, or was he weeping? She couldn’t really tell. Mesmerized by the beauty of his funeral voice, she yearned to see him. The girl stood up, her eyes rifling through the trees, searching. Her heart kept leading her towards the river, and as she drew nearer, the voice grew louder, and she knew she had found him.
Now.
“Sing for me…” she said, her eyes pleading.
They were still in the car, and he wasn’t driving, so she thought it would be okay if he sang a bit.
“No.” he said quietly yet firmly.
“But why..?” she asked, feeling disappointed.
“I just want to be home.” He said.
That was that and not another word was said. The ride home was filled with uncomfortable and awkward silence. Looking out of the window, she couldn’t stop her tears. Had she made the wrong decision? Was she supposed to just stay home? Why’d she come back? She couldn’t even imagine the next few hours with him. He had completely changed. Where was his sense of humor? And his flawless smile? This never bothered him. It never did.
Then.
Her eyes grew wider as she stared at the boy by the river. Suddenly he stopped singing and as he turned to face her, she was awestruck by his captivating blue eyes. Suddenly, it felt like she somehow knew him, he looked so familiar. He seemed to ignore her, or hadn’t he noticed her? He turned and faced the river again. Once more, he started his symphony of sorrow. He began to sing, his voice echoing through the trees.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but you really have a beautiful voice…” she said quietly.
Startled, he quickly turned his head to the right, then to the left, then again to the right. His bewilderment confused her. She was standing to the left, but he continued to gaze to the right.
“I’m here…” she said softly, as she laid her hand slowly on his shoulder.
He turned to face her, and the thought struck her like thunder…was he blind? She smiled weakly, waiting for a reaction, yet the boy continued to stare.
“I cannot see you, can’t you see that..? I live by the riverside. I live to weep.”
And that was how they met. Back then, he was just a lonely boy, stuck between the clenched fists of grief. And she, she couldn’t help but fall in love. She fell in love with those sightless eyes, she fell in love with that angelic voice. And when he first smiled to her, she fell in love with the lost confidence that hid behind that bewildered smile.
The way home seemed unbelievably long, and when they were finally home, he pushed the door open and quickly ran upstairs. It reminded her of her sister’s son, a child in his early years. For a moment she just stood there shocked. It was a matter of seconds when she saw him running back down.
“Your bags.” He said breathlessly, searching for her bags.
“Wait.” She said, laying a soft hand on his shoulder. “just wait, calm down. I can carry my bags, they’re not heavy.”
“What? Do I look like a weakling to you? Give me the bags!” he said, with a defensive tome.
“No…but I really can carry them, that’s what I’m saying.” She said softly “I mean..”
“What, am I suddenly not good enough for you?!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “GIVE. Me. The. Bags.” His voice low and serious.
She opened her mouth, ready to yell, and then she suddenly stopped herself. No, she thought. “Okay, her you go.” She handed him the bags.
He took the bags quickly and stumbled up the stairs. A moment later she heard him slam the bedroom door shut. She went to the door, and stood there with tears in her eyes. Finally, she breathed in heavily, and made her way upstairs, with her fake lipstick smile.
Softly she pushed the door open.
“Hey…” she said, trying to sound cheerful.
There was no answer. He just sat there, looking out the window. She walked towards him, and looked.
“Wow, I really missed those busy streets.” She said.
And still he kept quiet.
She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a soft kiss of the cheek.
“Come on, baby, don’t you miss me?”
Motionless, he let out a sigh and stood up, then walked out of the bedroom.
The girl walked towards the door, and locked it. Then she looked around her. The place hadn’t changed much. She opened the closet, and searched for clues. What had gone wrong? She kept searching for things until she finally opened the last drawer. She gasped. Photos. A million photos. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. Some of his photos were of the wrong things; the wrong parts of his face. Meant to be his eyes, but they weren’t, sometimes half of his eye, sometimes all. And a thousand crumbled papers, a knife, a gun, and pills. She quickly grabbed one of the papers and tried to read.
“Burn. Burn. Burn. You have nothing left you mangled piece of flesh. A body? No, not a soul. Hair, no, not beauty. A nose. You cannot breath. Lips. You cannot kiss. A mouth, and no one hears you. Ears, and you are eternally deaf. Your eyes? A reason for death. What do you see? You don’t see. You don’t see. You just don’t fucking see. You want to see. Where is she? Where is he? She kept you alive. She. Kept. You. Alive. Without her you are nothing. You. Are. Nothing. Without. Her. Nothing. But she’s gone, she doesn’t love you. How can she love you, you handicapped piece of crap. She doesn’t love you.”
She stopped reading, her hand on her mouth. Dropping the paper, she collapsed, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d cried this much. Her soft sobs soon turned to howls and she found herself quickly trying to read his notes. And they all said almost the same thing. But she loved him. She had to leave. And she only left for two months. Two months. Her mother had died, but she couldn’t let him know. She just had to be there for her family. And he, he never understood.
The girl put the notes back, unlocked the door, and made her way towards the bathroom. She washed her face, even though she knew it wouldn’t have mad a difference to him, then she stood in front of him. Silently watching him.
For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, as she stared deeply into his large eyes. She knew what had gone wrong. She was too shocked to speak, and she didn’t want to cause any more damage. She didn’t want to say the hurtful things he’d always heard. He put his hands in a little bowl of water, and whispered, telling her how soft the water feels, when his eyes cant tell him how beautiful it is, his touching hands reveal. She sat by his side, feeling his pain, watching him as he suffered in silence. Suddenly he turned to face her, as if his bewildered eyes were asking for her guidance. She didn’t know if she should tell him she understood, or if she should keep it a secret between her…and the new person her was.
She opened her mouth, yet her words failed her. All she could let out was a sigh. Unanswered questions ran through her mind as she began to cry. There was just too much anger inside of him, and he wasn’t willing to give in. But he wasn’t like that. It was these two months that he spent away from her that made him like that. She watched him in silence with tears shivering in her eyes. She was his only shelter, his only home, and his only hope. She kept him alive. She kept him smiling and she made him feel loved. She always felt like she was raising a child, and he seldom asked for much yet she knew that deep inside, he needed her more than the air he breathed. All her life, she took care of him. She washed his clothes, helped him get into them, she combed his hair and helped him shave. She did all those little things that meant everything to him. She should’ve known, he was far too weak to be left alone. But now…things were beyond repair, and all she could do is watch him. Watch her lover suffering, silently dying.
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and still, he stayed like that. He never asked for help, and whenever she tried to offer it, he’d push her away. She still tried anyhow. Secretly, she still ironed his shirts, and polished his shoes. Secretly, she still tried to make things easier for him. But he never changed. They never talked anymore, and the love they had, felt like it had never even existed. To her, it felt like a distant dream, like something only she’d seen, something that only she had experienced. And to him, their love never even existed at all.
It was a cold December night, similar to the one she’d experienced when they met, when she walked in to the room and she never walked out. Lying there was her delicate lover, covered in blood. He just lay there, silently weeping tears of blood. And all she could do was slip her hand into his, and lay her body next to him. She sat there for two hours with the words “two months” in her mind, and for those two hours, she talked to him about her love that never dies. And after those two hours they buried him, and still she cried. Every two days, she’d visit her lover, and spend two hours mourning by his side. She told him two stories about two hearts, whose love for one another soon died. Yet one of them held on, till the last two seconds of her breathing years. And for those two whole seconds, she held on, as her heart gave away, her final two beats.