I am back into this delusional state that I call desolation. I am standing in an opened meadow under this constellation.
I see you, a black concrete figure, draw oneself up, with hands withered on both sides of your body.
Breathing a word from afar, mouthing phrases that I cannot catch, you walk falteringly like a wolf with blind staggers on a hot wild summer day. As you get closer to me, the earth beneath my feet trembles like there is an earthquake.
You are the past that I continually disavow, even when you know I am in denial of defeat.
“Submit now!” you are the trigger to my six-feet-under deathbed. You want me to revoke the closure I am using as the barrier between our past and future. Such an abnegation of reality, you say.
“No,” I say in admonishment. “Why would I?”
“Because you know that I have successfully conquered your present time.” every tone, every resonant, was adumbrated by a series of flashing images of our recent rendezvous.
I accede in agony, but still, I don’t capitulate to what is in fact true.
“I will give you one last chance,” you take a step back. Now we are two steps apart. I want to reach out to you and hold you in your previous place. Your eyes can manipulate so many things, so many feelings. They shoot me a deep and serious stare, such a dangerous weapon to kill. They are sharper than any blades that were once creating the wounds in my lungs. You offer me your hand. “Take it or walk away.”
I am in a quandary about taking a step forward or a step backward.
“You’re such a quaint!” I am trying to give us sometimes before I fall in anguish. “You’re using this old game where you can beguile me into thinking that you are the one. You keep pushing and pulling. Put aside the fake charm of yours…” my eyes have already been flooded with tears. “…and stare deep into my eyes that are filled with such indignation, then tell me how to make believe all these spurious inferences into plausible facts that you call reality!”
“YOU’RE SCARED!” you are enraged and that shout nudges every heartbeat and break all bloodstreams in my veins. “How long are you going to live in the past?”
“As long as I can find someone…”
“Open your eyes!” You are half screaming in a nonchalant tone. “He is right in front of you. How will you ever see if you don’t open the door for possibilities?” You clamor for justice.
“You can stop making me the object of a surfeit of affection satisfying to you or anybody else!” I obviate the fear in me and take two steps forward until we are only an inch apart. Making a room for the tense vibrations in us to collide into an explosion. “You’re the sympathetic pariah that everyone wants me to avoid.”
“Oh, so you are just going to let strangers control your life? Like this ‘relationship’ is going to be theirs also?” You take umbrage that some point to a lack of support, you are being appointed as the truculent schemer. “You are not a people-pleaser and I do not ever make you one for myself! I am never playing this game if you never agreed at the beginning.”
“THIS IS NOT A GAME!” I start to tremble. The smoke of cold air breaks the space between us. I lower my head, making it touches your chest. I can hear a clamorous sound from inside it. Right then, I know what you feel. How you are actually handling my morose temper, or is it yours? You are holding on to something that is real.
“You made this all a game for both of us,” I hear you saying. Your voice is trailing off.
I snap my head up as soon as I realize, but you are already fading away.
“Wait!” I shout a whimpering sound, the weakest cry I ever heard of. Even in trite motions, you become more amorphous. Like smoke that is being blown by an invisible wind of desperation.
You abscond with my lungs being kept tight inside your own. I can’t breathe.
“I am taking a part of you so that you will know this last chance you keep denying was supposed to complete you.” As the sun starts to show up and the dark sky starts to evade, you smile at me. “Until then, I hope you find someone else to restore them back.”
I was once empty for a while when someone stole my lungs. Until I was sent here under the constellation being asked for the chance to have them back. You showed up. Now, you are gone and I am back to being empty, trying to grasp for oxygen. How long will I survive without my lungs? How long will it take until someone restores them back? How long…