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Should I write to you or should I not? Do you deserve to know? I, myself, don’t know completely. Some fragments of it always escape my grasp, adeptly slipping out of reach. Just when I dare to think they’re finally mine to hold, they spread their silver wings and fly away. For such a long time I’ve been contemplating and yet, I never seem to figure out a solution. I hope you’ll be able to do so once you have all the pieces. Because the ones that elude me land on your shoulder, I’m sure. I’m revealing to you the ones that I’ve caught, I pass them over to you so that you can put them all together, arrange all the pieces so you can behold the whole picture. (Or, you can set them free if you want.)
Anyway, why would I do that, you might ask? I can’t let you get away with it, of course. No crime shall go unpunished, especially one of this kind – a sin. And one of the worst, I believe, because once it gets to you, I’ve told you, it eats away at your soul from within. And you let it spread, float in the air, as if irresponsibly, recklessly, but you knew perfectly well what you were doing, didn't you? You waved your hand urging it to drift over to me; a thundercloud made of thousands of dust specks… It was approaching slowly, slowly, the exact opposite of everything else about you. This might be one of the reasons I couldn’t see it clearly at first. The particles were scattered across time and space, masquerading as something entirely different from their true nature. Were you the one responsible for this? You love disguising yourself, you must do the same with the space around you, right?
But I sensed it anyway. Subconsciously perhaps, but there was something. An energy that interrupted my otherwise coherent train of thought, something evoking shivers all over my body, a sinister presence I didn’t feel quite threatened by. (Perhaps I should have, underestimating it proved fatal for both of us.) Why was it so, I couldn’t help but wonder, spending my days and nights pondering over the matter of this unknown but imminent danger. As it eventually turned out, it had been by my side all along. I was being intoxicated unbeknownst to me, my tolerance to the poison slowly building to the point of withdrawal symptoms occurring as soon as it was taken away from me. Psychological dependence that became physical pain; one that caused my limbs to shake more violently than usual, creating black spots in my vision, and making me lose my balance.
Why did I need it so badly? Why, all of a sudden it seemed, I couldn’t function properly without it? And why, when it was finally near, my mind would go wild? Why did it strike me like a thunderbolt and cut off all thought? Why was it that every time you’d come out of nowhere to stand by my side and babble complete nonsense, it all sounded to me like a sweet harmonious piece?
My thoughts wandered again. You should know best that this never happens to me. What you don’t know, however, is that the only direction they dare drift to is you. Maybe it’s not that bad after all, the destination, and that’s why I let them. That was not the case in the beginning, I must confess. They would all suddenly break away from their flock and fly in all directions, without any harmony; a composition that has reached a crooked note and the calm melody is turned into a furious drumbeat, the movements of the tiny ballet dancers getting wilder and wilder, more fierce and savage with each passing moment…
It was a new sensation, and like all new things, it caught me off guard, reluctant, cautious. I had to be wary of this new energy, of its intensity. I’d say it was too much, but it was never enough. No – it was just passing by, leaving traces of its presence, bits and pieces, peeking from around the corner, teasing from a safe distance… Safe for who – me or you? I guess both. I never asked for more, and neither did you.
I really want to say that I never knew, that I never felt it, to take an imaginary responsibility off my hands, off my conscience. Yet I want to say that I knew perfectly well, that I’ve known all along, that it was entirely my decision, to take all the blame for my action and inaction. Better to admit your own conscious decisions, is it not? However, I can’t do either, I’m somewhere in between. I see the bars, Kolya, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Is this the tragedy of human life? Is this what makes you so angry that you sometimes wish to be unable to see?
If I am the only one who can help you achieve your freedom, could you help me achieve mine as well? I believe you’re the only one who’d ever be able to do that.
Do you remember that time, Kolya, when we went to see a play together? Which one exactly? Why, the greatest love story, of course, as some say. To me, that’s one of life’s greatest tragedies… to be or not to be. To be or not to be left alone on this wretched earth after the one who means the most to you is gone for good. To be or not to be by their side in death, holding them in an embrace tighter than the one you shared in life... To be or not to be the one who helps them achieve their freedom.
You know my answers, Nikolai. You know not because I’ve revealed them to you, but because you’re the one who chooses them. Whisper in my ear and I shall repeat it out loud so the words bounce back to you and you can make them come true. “Jesters do oft prove prophets,” snap your fingers and it becomes real.
It was one of the first times we went out together. We hadn’t known each other for long, but you were so insistent, you wouldn’t shut up about it for days. Pacing around the room, rambling about theatre and acting and, of course, freedom. How you always manage to weave it into whatever you’re talking about is beyond me. Your eyes burned with such exuberance, it seemed like sparks were firing out of them. What could I have done?
I didn’t know. For once, for the first time, I was at a loss. So I simply did nothing, I let myself be carried along by the current. Except I had no idea how deep the river was; how the calm waves could suddenly rebel, furious foam gushing along the edges of the high waves; an underwater cyclone, invisible from the still surface, suddenly engulfing me in the raging maelstrom, a black vortex, a void, and dragging me violently down to the muddy bottom; the poisonous algae darting towards me and tightening around my limbs, rendering me unable to move, completely at their mercy, until I’m no longer able to breathe, my lungs being filled with salt water…
The sparks from your eyes flew all around you, around me, the world was ablaze, the wicked tongues of the fiery serpent reached every part of the surrounding space, burning it down to the ground irrevocably. All was ashes, dust and ruins, all that I had believed about myself. Because I was getting poisoned by the smoke from the fire that you ignited with just one glance. And it was suffocating me, this inability of mine to do anything.
Maybe I didn’t want to. To put an end to the maddened raging flames, I mean. It was pleasant, the warmth, this feeling that was unfamiliar to me up until that point. I desperately wanted to get closer, to play with the fire if you will. Not that I’d admit it to myself back then, it took me a while, far too long to be honest. I had to restrain myself from putting my hand into the red maw of flames and let it swallow me whole, let it do to my body what it had done to my soul. It was addicting. Until then, I believed that everyone had a vice, but not me. It turned out I had been wrong. It turned out it wasn’t really that bad, a strange indescribable comfort that I sought at every turn. The glint of silver hair and the soft laughter I eagerly hoped to see or hear at any moment.
My words might sound harsh, cruel. I’ve seen how they slice the space between us, how they create new scars in your soul with their sharpness, how they cut and dig deeper and deeper. I wish I could heal them, erase them from existence, all these scars, whether caused by me or not; not because they mar you, but because I know it still hurts. The pain remains, it lurks deep within you and will keep coming back with varying intensity, resurfacing every now and then, even when I’m no longer here.
Do you know about it? The screeching delight that overwhelms me every time you touch me, anytime I feel your skin on mine and my mind goes blank. It all revolves around you and so fast it makes me dizzy but you’re always there to catch me. (Maybe that’s why I’m not afraid, because I know you’ll catch me and won’t let me fall. And even if I fall, you’ll still hold me and let me drag you down with me. All I know is, if you’re the one falling, I’d do the same. Haven’t I done it already? I clung to you as we both fell… The abyss of sin had long since opened its monstrous jaws, and it was only a matter of time before we both went down, wasn’t it?)
I feel disgusted with the world and myself until your arms are around me and everything’s steady again. It comes to a halt, the insane spinning of my mind, and ink-black spreads around, engulfing the space, and only two stars are visible, twinkling cheerfully in the vast cosmic darkness, it’s calm… I only hear the pounding of my heartbeat, of yours, the two merging into a symphony, accompanied by the warm puffs of breath you leave on my skin… Is it the same for you, I sometimes find myself wondering but never ask.
“O Fool, I shall go mad!,” I’d say, but am I not mad already? Who’s the real fool after all? You must know this better than I do now.