And he did. He looked at her. In a hazy moment he stared at her and for a while their gazes lingered. In that dark alley, surrounded by screaming lights. The girl remembered nothing. She just still felt so wrong. Every moment she and him shared, she had felt wrong. Like all the potential she had been so much in love with didn’t even try to stop haunting her like she had wanted to believe. All she ever felt for him, always bound for wrecking. She knew that even now, more than fours years after they first met. “I wanted to remember Paris.” she thought. “Wanted to remember the good and how I’m done with our story.” Her fucking big mouth. He hovered over her, he still rushed in and out of her like that disaster he had always been. And she was still paralyzed by him. Still so unbelievably angry by everything he said that was not directed towards her alone, by how he moved when it was not for her only. She had always said that he takes up a room like a king, with fanfares and trumpets. That what to others felt like a revelation of sorts, to her it was an unnecessary mask. For her, he was art alone. And she remembered well. How tiny it could make her feel. All the hustle and bustle of his act and her in the middle. Stripping it all down until it was just the two of them again. Like, to her, he was the only person alive in this world.
He was back. “Stay, Stay. Stay.” she whimpered to herself.
But of course he would leave. And naturally, it left a hole behind. But then. She was the girl with the Open Heart surgery. She was the girl in Paris. The girl seeing him walk off, vanish into SoHo’s Bustle a million times. She was the girl sitting on the red bench alone, smiling the tears away. It was funny. After all those years, she could still watch her heart break inside of him.
Thank You For Existing
She knew nothing could ever hold her down long enough. All her life, she moved places without seeing anyone or hearing anything. But wherever she went, her fingers would trace a map until she would find a Lighthouse on top of a Hill. Like clockwork this place would become her favorite Place in the world and she would find ways to escape, every day. Moving lightly, up the trodden pathways with the surges of wind lifting her feet. Strangers Thoughts and Resolutions lying on the side, crunching beneath her shoes. She smashed hers down, too. Making those Hills graveyards, leaving something of herself behind everywhere she went. She stripped down. Until she was nothing more than a blank page, swaying in the wind. Making it swoosh through her clothes, pushing her back and forth so the beautiful force of nature was all she would feel for a moment. They pinched her eyes that day. That day, exactly one year ago, gales of the ocean entering Boston Harbor, they made her blind for a second or two. And when she reopened them, still blurred from her lashes slowly parting, she saw him wandering down this long empty hallway. Coffeecup in one hand, his Home embroidered on his cap covering most of his face. And she felt what everybody must have meant with ‘seeing things’ or ‘hearing things’ or ‘feeling…someone’. Fresh impulses reached the deepest corners of her unwritten mindset. Overwhelming, new impulses of everything there was. All of him. And when they clashed in smiles and Hellos she got overrun by the world. She learned about gratitude. Which up until him had felt like the strangest concept to her. She learned about it that day. Gratitude that was pure and sincere. Gratitude that felt no longer strange but inevitable.Trials and Tribulations of this life swirling above her head,dancing and wafting like there was no weight to them anymore now that she had let go and seen him. He became all there was. Her beaming ray of sunshine. Her windwhirls and her Lighthouse and her Escape. He became her plan. The only plan she’d ever have.