Work Text:
Before I met you, the skies were just a little bit dull; the grass was just a little bit dry; the sun was just a little bit faded – as though someone had dragged a paintbrush across my eyes, entrapping all in a mist of dreams. What was it I was looking for? I observed the world as it trickled on with the hum of time, tired of my usual participation as I tried to piece together the fragments that hold the meaning to this life. Empty smiles; hollow laugher; stony eyes; strained motions – the expressions of strangers blend into one another as the days passed by, the resulting distortion doing little to quiet the static of my thoughts as I wonder if this was perhaps the reality I sought.
The way we first met was as simple, and as unexpected as the romantic novels and movies I had perused in my younger years had promised. The faraway look in your eyes told me you too, were searching for something (or someone). People with missing pieces like us are easy to see: our motions are laden with the weight of a childhood fantasy by our own desperate hands, unwilling to let go of the comfort of naïve nostalgia, yet forever yearning touch of the material that lies in experiences just beyond our reach. The forlornness of your lips pulled against the despair of mine, and we fell against the backdrop of our shared solitude, content in our companionship. We forced our angles into each other’s hollows; comforted by the other’s presence, yet tender from friction – it was like a waltz, wasn’t it? How our incomplete selves had found solace in each other’s estranged melody, brought together where the rays of light crisscross through the concrete canopy. And we spun, oh how we spun; clinging onto each other as we tumbled through life, afraid to get closer, but more terrified of letting go.
The weathering of time had tempered the remainder of my edges, moulding my pieces into your space. I bared the scratches of our history etched in my skin – their paths the ties that bind our future – reeling in the excesses as I watch them expand, and contract against your vacillation, wondering if they would hold past your aphelion. What was it you were searching for? The lullabies you had whispered repainted my reality in primary colours, only for me to wake to yet another muted day, watching as the memories of our sunbeams dissolved into the shadows.
So, I sat in your favourite café while the world inched by again, the burn of coffee a reminder of how you had lit my canvas on fire, and left me smouldering with the cinders of yesteryear. You returned (as you always did) on an unmemorable night – as though you had never left – your touch spilling the warmth of your sun into my skies, and making me believe in that instant, I was finally whole. We knew we were both fighting against gravity; falling for, yet away from each other – it was like a waltz, wasn’t it? How our disjointed motions complemented one another’s in asynchronicity, brought together where the rays of light crisscross through the concrete canopy.
And we spun, oh how we spun; our fingers always missing, but our hearts still entwined, orbiting each other as we awaited our fabled happy ending.