Monday, May 24
May 24 Mon.
"Where you are...
Where you and I will be together
Once again...
We'll be dancing in the moonlight just like
We used to do...
And you'll be smiling back at me...
Only then will I be free
When I can be
Where you are." -Where You Are, Jessica Simpson and Nick Leche
...
A whole day of reality...consumed by a few minutes of Dream's sweet murmurs.
...
He always wore long-sleeves. Always.
...
I remember...
I was just standing there, looking down, with my long hair veiling my face. My insides were ice cold and rock hard. I was devoid of feelings then. I had downed too many shots of pain. I was numb.
From a distance, a tall figure stood up and took a few steps towards me.
"Celine...what's wrong...?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. Concern, ha. At that moment...I hated it.
I lifted my limp arms, and folded them across my chest. I tilted my head up, and looked into his eyes - one of them slightly veiled by strands of his chestnut hair. He stopped dead in his tracks. I saw him stiffen a bit, obviously taken aback by my cold, empty eyes.
He took a step back. He could sense the hatred in me.
*Yeah. Run away. Like all the others.*
...
But he didn't. He reached forward and held my shoulders. I scowled at his gentle grip.
"Let go of me, I'm fine." I muttered, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He still didn't let go of me. "What's your problem?" I asked, my voice rising. "I said I'm fine!" I brushed his hands away.
...
The moment I made him let go of me, time seemed to slow down. I watched as his hands slowly inch away from my shoulders, as the warmth of his fingers faded from my cold skin. My mind snapped. I felt the excruciating weight of being alone...of being left alone by the one person who wanted to help me. Who wanted to reach me...
I wanted to take it back. To apologize. To tell him what it was that made me act this way...
Years of misery. Topped off with a very painful day.
But he had already taken back his hands, and lowered his gaze.
I blew it again. Too late. But...it was probably for his own good. At least he wouldn't have to waste his time and efforts on a hopeless wasted case like me.
I closed my eyes, as the harsh reality of my curse crushed my heart in its merciless grip.
...
My cheek was suddenly seared with a soft warmth. I snapped opened my eyes. He had his hand gently pressed against the side of my face. I was stunned. And yet, I still couldn't make myself look straight at him.
"We all have problems, you know..." he said, as a matter of factly.
"Oh yeah?" I quietly retorted, softly laughing under my breath. I frantically took off my watch and brandished my left wrist in front of him. "Well, I'll bet your 'problems' ain't worse than this!"
He looked down at my forearm. Two diagonal lines, still fresh - reddish brown and slightly swollen - cutting across my wrist...and my soul...
For a few moments, he was silent. "Well..." he whispered, "I'm afraid you'd lose that bet, Celine."
Without another word, he slowly pushed both his sleeves, up to his elbows. I took one look and...
My heart broke.
Lines thick and thin alike, scratches, slash marks, punctures, and cigarette burns - old scars littering his forearms.
...
Silence.
...
"People think I'm perfect, and I have it all." he stated, his voice slightly cold. "But they can't see past the expensive clothes, can they?"
I stayed silent.
"I've been like this...as far back as I can remember... And for so many years, nobody's ever tried to find me." his voice was slightly softening, as he sunk deeper into his memories. "But look...none of them are fresh." He pointed out to his scars. Yes...it looked like he hadn't hurt himself in a while.
"That's coz' now...I have a reason to stop wallowing in my pain, and start caring for something that's worth...much more."
My mind pounded. Good for him, I thought.
"This is me, Celine..." he said simply. "The real me... And you're the only one who's ever tried to find me. And you have."
...
Blank. I couldn't say anything. Guilt started to seep in - steaming hot, and made me feel like I was rotting inside. How stupid of me... Here I was, too affixated on my own problems to realize that here was a creature - with even bigger problems - and he was trying to help me. And I did nothing but push his hands away.
My pain now seemed so trivial compared to his.
I pursed my lips...words failed me. I hung my head.
...
My cheeks were suddenly flushed with the warmth of his hands. He stooped down a little, until his face was level with mine.
"I don't want you to hurt...like me..." He said softly.
...
I slowly raised my gaze, and looked into his eyes. I expected him to disappear like a bubble. He was too...surreal, too...impossible...to be true...
He didn't disappear.
...
There were no words. I buried my face into his chest and cried.
I wept for all I was worth.
And he did nothing but wrap his arms around me, and hold me close as I broke down.
...
And I woke up to the subtle darkness of 3:00am, with tears on my pillow, and a smile softly playing on my lips.
...