“I love you”
A whisper, as I rose from my half-asleep, half-awake state, I heard it. It was a soft voice, husky but sweet and tender. I could feel my hair being stroke back. The hand was soft and it touches me gently. I could feel that the words in that whisper were genuine from the way its hand touched me.
“I won’t be here much longer. Won’t you open your eyes and look at me?”…..
I didn’t want to, but I did anyway. She was beautiful. Her eyes, her big green eyes were staring right into mine, or perhaps, staring right through me. I always felt that she could see right into my soul just from how she knew exactly what I was thinking or feeling. But then again maybe I’m just that predictable. She smiled at me. It was that smile that made me fall in love with her. When you’re surrounded by darkness, like an idiot you still wander further into that darkness, aimlessly not knowing whether you turning left or right. But it was that smile, her smile that somehow brought me back into the light. In a world like mine: where everything is dark, dingy, tainted, that smile is the only light. She had the most kissable lips, pointy and red which curved perfectly in the corner.
“I won’t be here much longer. Won’t you kiss me before I go?”
“I won’t let yo…..”
She leaned in and kissed me. As she leaned in her long tickled my shoulder. She pulled back and smiled at me. She had long black hair that reminded me of the color of my soul. I’m not a good person; I’ve done things that I’ll never be redeemed of. I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, I don’t deserve the slightest ounce of happiness…yet I’m waking up to the most beautiful woman. She stood up and walked across the room. It was a dark room with maroon color drapes. The bed had four banisters in each corner that held up a red net. There was a massive window that opened onto a balcony. The only light in the room was the moon light. For some reason the both of us are afraid of light. Maybe that’s because when we are together, we let go of anything holding us back. And, we’d rather not see who we really are.
“I won’t be here much longer. Won’t you choose a dress I can wear before I go?”
As I lay there watching the moonlight bounce off her hips, I heard footsteps. For a moment I thought someone was coming but then I realized it was hers. She doesn’t have feet. For as long as I’ve been coming back here she has never had feet. She always looked like she was gliding across the floor, gracefully. I rolled over to light a cigarette and when I rolled back, she was standing before me in a black dress. A skin tight black dress that teased my imagination. She turned a full 360 degrees so that I could see the dress on her from all angles…..god damn but she was beautiful. She walked up to the side of the bed and loomed over my body. She took my hands in hers and smiled at me
“I won’t be here much longer… Won’t you dance in the moonlight with me?”
I looked at her hands. I couldn’t see them but, I could feel them. She tried pulling me up but how could she? She was so delicate and fragile…but I loved that about her. If she couldn’t open a jar she’d ask me. If she couldn’t lift something because it was too heavy she’d ask me. She made me feel needed and before I met her I always wondered: “who would ever need a monster?”. I got up and put my cigarette out. She led me out onto the balcony by the hand. She turned to me and I wrapped my arms around her petite waist. Our bodies locked together slowly moved from side to side.
“I won’t be here much longer…won’t you tell me you love me?”
“Where are you going?”
She raised her hand to my face and gently stroked my cheek. She looked deep into my eyes. She rested her head on my chest. I held her tighter against my body. She was warm and soft. Her perfume filled my nostrils.
“I love you…”
She looked up at me. Her eyes wide open, as if she was surprised by my words. She shouldn’t be. It was the first time I had ever said that. Never have I said it to a mother or father, a sibling, a cousin, or a friend. I never had any. I was born into an orphanage. I never was adopted and due to the feeble explanation of me being “a naughty boy”, I lost all hope that I might be one day. I stayed in the orphanage till I was 18. I was heartbroken a few times by people who I had gotten close to leaving. And even though they had promised to keep in touch, they never did. But she, my love, always came back. There would be nights I’d climb into my bed, yet somehow wake up to her next to me. There would be days I’d close my eyes for a few minutes, yet when I open them again, she would be in front of me: her head slightly tilted, hair hanging down the side, and smiling.
“I have to leave now…”
“Because our time is up”
“We haven’t finished our dance…”
She stepped away from me and walked to the railing of the balcony. She stood there, as though she was hesitant in her decision to leave. She stretched her arms out along the balcony railing. Her hair hung down her back and through the strands of hair I could see her shoulder blades arching out. She looked at me over her shoulder. She was beautiful. It’s amazing honestly. When something is so beautiful you become more attached to it. You want to know more about it and you just cannot let go of it. I’ve been with countless beautiful women. None as beautiful as her but nonetheless I was a fortunate man. As beautiful as some on them may have been, they were terrible people. Not of all of them don’t get me wrong. For every yang there is a ying but I’ve had my fair share of the yang. To this day, I’m not sure what it was that made them so bad to me. I really wanted nothing from them. All I wanted was comfort. Yet some of them were incapable of this. What I am sure of however, is some of them were just using me. I honestly don’t know what for, sometimes I think money, sometimes I think pleasure or maybe, I was just an escape for them from their own demons.
Demons…we all have demons. It’s a common misconception that “demons” make reference to insecurities and fears, and to a certain extent this is a valid reference. But now, when I look back on my own demons… I guess the women that hurt me are my demons. I fight with these demons every day. They whisper my ear: “you’re worthless.”, “Who would ever love you?”, “Again this? You really think that you can do this?” I’ve gotten accustomed to ignoring them though. And I’ve also gotten accustomed to not feeling anything. The lesson you learn after your heart is shattered is a lesson you will never forget. You will always remember said lesson and apply it to all future events and relationships. With her, however, I did not need to protect myself. She turned around and looked at me.
“Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes. But where are we going?”
“Somewhere far away…somewhere where we can be free”
Free? I am desperate to be free. Free of: social constraints and responsibility; fears and insecurities; hopes and dreams. Most of all, I am desperate to be free of myself: my crazy; sane; over-thinking; passive; neurotic; rational; ever-changing; stable; fearful; strong; in- humane; sensitive self. I could picture it now, freedom with her. We could get a beautiful little beach house: two bedroom, one bathroom, a cute little kitchen and patio that opens up right onto the beach. Just she and I, with no one else around for miles. It’ll be a simple peaceful life. But it’ll be our lives. a life we’ve built together. Because at this point, as I stare at her leaning against the railing of the balcony, I know that there is nowhere else I’d rather be.
“Take me with you..”
“Come here my love”
She stood there with open arms. I rushed into her arms and immediately kissed her. Perhaps it was just a normal kiss like every other. But for me, it was a kiss more epic that the most powerful love tale in history. I was smitten. We pulled away and looked deep into each other’s eyes. I know I won’t regret this decision going with her. She held my hand tightly and we both turned to look at the view from the balcony. It was a beautiful night. The city lights flickered in the distance and we could hear the hustle and bustle of its people. Underneath us I could see the rocky pathway we used to get to this point. Only now did I realize just how high up we were. She turned to me and pulled my head down to hers
“What are you doing?”
“This is going to hurt my love”
She started laughing…a laugh filled with insanity and pain. She pulled me into her. She kicked my feet and pulled me back with her over the balcony railing. We were falling to fast for me to have a flash back at the key moments in my life. Not that I had many wonderful key moments in my life. My life was pathetic and maybe she doing this was her greatest gift to me. Maybe this was her way of saving me. Maybe she was protecting me from dying alone. If this is the case, then let me plummet to my death faster. I wasn’t afraid to die. With my occupation, Death is like having a headache. I felt it though…death. As I landed I felt the hard edges of each stone piercing into my skin. I felt how each bone in my body shattered on impact and I felt how each of my organs failed from the pressure of the landing.
I had minutes maybe, even seconds before I died. Yet all I cared about was her. I couldn’t move but thankfully, she was right next to me. Her hands still locked with mine. She had blood dribbling from the side of her mouth. She somehow smiled at me but I couldn’t reciprocate the gesture. My time was up. The green in her eyes were getting dimmer. Her face was starting to become a blur. The darkness was beginning to ooze in.
Light…what was that light? I opened my eyes. It was the sun. The sun rays flowed through the branches of the big oak tree that blocked my room. The leaves on the tree were green and fresh. It was hot and humid but I could feel a cool breeze against my body. My body? I quickly sat up to see what my body had looked like. It was fine. No torn skin, no shattered bones, no failed organs. I was fine. I looked around the room. Only a bed, a table and a black duffel bag occupied the room. It was my room. I had woken up in my bed, in my room, in my house. That was just a dream. She was just a dream. As I sat there in my bed I reached over for my pants on the floor and pulled out a cigarette. I lit one as I leaned back against the cold wall and stared out my window.
I kept thinking about her. It’s a funny thing dreams. Sometimes you see things you don’t want to see…sometimes you see things you desperately want…and sometimes, sometimes you just don’t know what the fuck is going on but you know you have some serious sub-conscious problems. Did you know you can control your dreams? “They” call it lucid dreaming. Apparently you lay in bed completely still trying not to give into that temptation to scratch your suddenly itchy arm. Then your body goes into a temporary paralysis. Imagine that, being paralyzed and, completely aware of it. I have to pee. I got up and walked to my bathroom. I had a nice place actually. If I just added maybe a lamp somewhere and picture frame on one of the walls I’m sure it’ll look good but honestly, I didn’t care. Objects like that are just that…objects. The only purpose they serve is decorative.
Yet for some reason a lamp could maybe between one to two grand. And yes of course, some idiot would actually pay that much because they feel like this lamp will serve some greater purpose other than, decorative. Idiots. As I stood here, answering natures call in the most primitive of ways, I heard a noise in my kitchen. At first I thought it was just the floor boards creaking but then I heard it again. There’s someone in my house. Finishing up, I walked over to my bed and pulled out a knife from between my mattress and bed base. My adrenaline began to pump as I put my shoes on. Just a tip: always put shoes on. Don’t worry about a shirt or pants. Chances are you might need to run and, if u run bare foot there could be an asshole rock just waiting to puncture your foot and slow you down. I slowly opened my door and made my way to where the noise was coming from. As I held the knife ready to attack with it, I snuck up slowly on my intruder.
They were busy by the sink. How kind of them to do the dishes before killing me. Was there dishes? I can’t even remember. I’ve always enjoyed sneaking up on my prey before killing them. There was just something about pushing a knife into their back, piercing their vital organs, forcing them to gasp. A gasp filled with both surprise and pain. The way they try to look back at you to see their un-doer. Their feeble attempt at trying to escape this reality of death. It was beautiful actually. That’s when they show who they truly are. Are they brave enough to not turn around and accept what is happening to them? Or, are they cowards that discard their pride and beg for mercy?
But why…I’ll never understand. Who would want to live in a selfish, hateful, greedy, cruel world like this? Maybe I’m just a pessimist but I don’t see the beauty behind it. As I slowly crept up on my intruder I saw that it was a woman. Her hair was untidily tied up and she was wearing one of my shirts…my favorite shirt at that. She had long legs. I wanted to touch them. The kitchen table was set with two plates, two glasses and two mugs. She had made breakfast. Who was this woman? How did she get in my house? I don’t remember coming home with someone. In actual fact, I don’t remember coming home at all. I was about to lunge forward and attack her when suddenly, she turned around.
It was her.