New Beginnings

I have been desperately thrashing at the mysterious layer of bricks veiling the future in an attempt to answer a solitary question that is driving me mad: there is an unexplored universe next door, will you come with me?

 

It started early in the summer.

I woke up from an unusually long drinking binge to not only a vicious hangover, but a lingering face projected on the backs of my eyelids. Due to the foolish amounts of alcohol consumed, I was unable to recollect the hazy details surrounding that face. To say I became obsessed with courting him would be a lack of intensity. Details were steadily revealed to me, but the cloudy specifics never became completely lucid. I was visibly overtaken and consumed by this face and immediately wanted to know all of the perplexing eccentricities of his character.

It didn’t take long until we became inseparable. We spent days utterly captivated by each other in the immobilizing heat. He told me my lavender curls reminded him of a mermaid. I told him the scar above his right eyebrow resembled Frankenstein. His innocent fingertips grazed my porcelain skin as if it were made of glass, cautious not to damage the delicate exterior. I breathed him in and felt dizzy by his allure.

Something about the warmth of the midsummer sun, the dancing clouds, his golden brown skin, and the endless nights under the amethyst sky made that entire summer feel like one drastically prolonged kaleidoscopic daydream. When the end of August crept up behind us we didn’t know what had hit us. All of the sudden, time was fleeting so rapidly we could not stop for a second to catch our breath.

The first time we said goodbye was in my driveway. I cried until I felt dazed and weak; he wiped my tears and embraced my trembling body in the moonlight. The future seemed so emphatically against us, though I so desperately prayed for the contrary. As frantically as I attempted to hold onto that summer, a new chapter was opening up and there was nothing that could stop it from becoming a colorful, utopian memory.

Since then, we’ve said goodbye in parking lots, hotels, out of car windows, city streets, and bedrooms and even though a year has gone by, the torture of watching you leave never gets any easier.

It was the winter of my life and he was my only essence of warmth. I remember being entirely submerged inside of his oversized jacket, embracing him tightly with every ounce of strength I had. Whenever he left, the sky instantaneously shifted to a pale, lackluster gray, and my body shivered from the agonizing chill.

We went on enchanting escapades, hand-in-hand in the frosty air, and kissed under fireworks in Central Park. The cold, crystal January sky led to a desperate desire to eliminate the distance between us. But, reality hit us like a ton of bricks; I had to attend my last semester of school and he had to go back to work. Temporary insanity. Being apart again planted pessimistic, impractical thoughts in our minds and misery in our hearts. I held onto his sentences, his smiles, his unspoken thoughts, and his glaucous blue eyes. Time was our enemy, but we annihilated it, because after a bone-chilling winter, waking up to a warm spring day is pure ecstasy.

Since then, we have said hello in doorways, city streets, parking lots, cars, driveways, and bedrooms. Side-by-side we have said hello to new places, new people, new experiences, and new beginnings. However, one new beginning remains unknown.

The universe is calling. It’s time to explore.

Life has brought me to a colorful room, and surrounding me is an infinite number of doors. The one I choose to take can determine the next “hello.” But I don’t want to go alone. I can’t go alone. Will you come with me?

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I kiss the timid moon and it illuminates as it blushes

I navigate my way through the ivory clouds and scoop a pile of stars into my open palm

The amethyst sky is boundless in my vision

I feel weightless

I blink for an abrupt second, only to realize that I am not asleep; I am next to you

For when you are near, life is but a dream

brief ramblings while laying in bed

thoughts at 12:15pm
i want to wake up to your sleepy yawns and bedroom eyes every morning;
i'd smile, then snuggle close and drift back to sleep for a few hours in your arms.

12:38
my favorite noise
is that of your heavy breathing
and sharply drawn gasps
when i give myself to you
and our bodies blend together

12:44
i bet the moon is lonely
staring down at a world so dark and quiet
but if it only knew how much we long for it
and feel dazzled and dizzied by it's presence
oh, moon don't hide away
illuminate our violet sky

1:00
your eyes tell stories
they speak to me each time they meet mine
yours are lighter, with a bit more blue
but i always pretend they're the same
when they meet it's an abrupt and awkward handshake
but then after a few seconds they have become the best of friends
yours telling stories and secrets that even your mouth would not expose
mine shyly observing with amour

A Hazy Shade of Winter

You think you know exactly what to do when you’re in that moment. Then that moment comes, more abruptly than you could ever imagine, and all former expectations evaporate as your life flickers before your eyes.

You are quivering – paralyzed by terror, regret, guilt, and memories. You catch your friend’s glance as the atmosphere rotates behind you, and then vanishes.  You want to speak, but your mouth is enfeebled. The fear in your friend’s eyes echoes yours and time stands still for the briefest of moments. It is 9:00 a.m. on a colorless winter day in January.

Muscles you did not even know existed stiffen as that undesirable target narrows in through tunnel vision.  The image vanishes as a white effervescence emerges and showers you with knifelike particles and a mysterious powder that burns your skin.

The piercing sound of your friend’s scream sends shivers down your spine and you scramble out of the vehicle just as sudden and unexpectedly as the accident had occurred. Your chest tightens and your breathing becomes stifled. You dial your parents and there is no answer. One friend is lying on the ground on the jacket that you took off to comfort her as you shiver. There is blood. Your other friend flees the scene immediately to notify your parents who are less than a mile away. Isn’t it funny how that happens? So close to your destination, yet galaxies away.

Before you know it, you are being placed in a wheelchair in the emergency room. Across the room you see your two friends through cloudy, teary eyes and feel a gut-wrenching sense of guilt overcome your entire body. Your world becomes a haunting, phantasmagoric nightmare. As the doctors help you into the bed, you weep violently. Your mind is a film reel, with the scene of the disaster replaying incessantly on the backs of your eyelids. It is 11:00 a.m. in Calvert Memorial Hospital.

Policemen bombard your hospital room. While struggling through the pain, they force you to walk one foot in front of the other in your thin, scanty hospital gown and follow a flashlight with your dripping eyes. They draw blood from your trembling arm as you drift into that obscure place between consciousness and slumber. As your eyes open, the nurse presents you with pain medication, ice for your wounds and an additional blanket for warmth. You use it to shelter yourself from the catastrophe.

You are released from the hospital room with a stack full of papers, your arm in a sling, a swollen eye and mouth, and countless airbag burns. You stumble a few steps out of your hospital room, still protected from the world under your delicate, white blanket. Unfortunately, that blanket does not veil your eyes from the images to follow. Your friend’s mother is positioned outside of a room a few doors away from yours and you shuffle timidly across to her. She perceives the sorrow and guilt in your body language and makes an attempt to reassure you. You tell her that you want to see your friend; she sighs and warns you that it is an unpleasant sight. “It appears much worse than it is. Don’t panic,” she assures.  You nod.

The door is cautiously nudged open, and you begin to wail. You are told she is on copious pain medications and she is not quite conscious of the atmosphere or her condition. You faintly recognize her, due to the excessive blood and bruising of her frightened face.  You whimper and gasp for air while repeatedly muttering, “I’m sorry,” to the fragile body lying in front of you.

The nurses escort you out of her room where your other friend appears. You both observe one another’s bruises, bandages, and bloodshot eyes and reach out for an enduring embrace. You walk together to the waiting room where there are familiar faces appearing morose upon your emergence. They anticipate details of the occurrence, but you are only capable of sobbing. They console you as you await the condition of your wounded friend. The nurses send you home to rest and insist they will send frequent updates. It is 4:00 p.m. and you are forced back into an automobile.

You pull into your driveway and see the mangled remnants of your red Toyota. It has been dislodged and towed away from the tree that dissevered it into pieces. You roll your head away from the catastrophic sight but your eyes cannot seem to veer from the path. You finally step inside your home where you are greeted by your affectionate sister who heard the news and hurried over. Your mother is immobile from recent surgery and bawls at the sight of you. You embrace each other for what feels like eternity. Your dizzied and exhausted body collapses on the couch and your mind leaks grief out by the pounds.