Thursday, April 06, 2006
perfect taco.
more secrets. inside, she begged him not to leave. at least not without saying goodbye. (but the truth was, he had been gone for weeks.) polite notes from would-be strangers in the early morning hours do little to ellicit emotional response, do little to deliver what should have been remorse with regards to lovers past and wounds scarcely healed. sometimes, she worried that she was empty inside. prayed that she had not become as desensitized as she felt, and that when the truth came speeding toward her at 213 miles per hour (as she hoped, rather suspected it might), she would still be able to feel it. all of this waiting forced her organs into slow motion, and it ate up most of her energy, convincing her heart rate to remain stable. there was a stain on the floor from the crusty mess, but mostly the blood was gone, the scars were faded. honesty would reveal that things were, in fact, quite filthy, but the dull visceral pain that usually accompanied such anxieties was on vacation. awaiting its arrival with hesitancy, for better or worse, she felt undeniably numb.
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and the limbo where they stood, each inside their own anxious world, he thought he could be strong enough to leave things there, like she had been able to (for better or worse). But a recent investigation into his secret life showed that he was far from this persona. Dawn was now his bedtime, his mornings were spent in bed, trying to understand why the alarm never went off any more. He dared not imagine what his mentors thought, his vacancy too present to dare confront them again.
Her gift to him, a dense black orb of raw emotion, was his only source of power now. In many ways it was beautiful, it was magical. He marvelled at the power available to him on his fingertips, all he had to do was remember and music and the vibrations did the rest. Everyone was impressed.
It came with a price though, as his responsibilities dripped away from him, the smiling faces and shaken hands, the architects and the freaks enjoyed him but in his grand scheme, they left him incomplete, and his instinct pointed him towards her, each day with more intensity, he wondered if there was astrological work at play in his pain, or if being a stranger always hurt this much.
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