Most beautiful, serene
(Person, 1340 views) - 11/9/03
(recorded 11/9/03 @ 3:32:24 AM)
She was *that* kind of girl. The kind of girl who would brighten a room without any real effort. A smile would draw across the face of all around her, and none would know why- it was an aura... a feeling that was simply... understood.
She was *that* girl. The last one you expected to see crying; always beaming, casting worry and wear aside. Her voice, something unique- you could feel it through you, and it'd surround you with its warmth. She had *those* eyes- the kind where you search for eternity for their end, and realize it's nowhere to be found. The girl whose face seemed to mirror perfection, who was God's gift to this world, in all respects.
I sat across the small, circular table from her and that instant, a single tear dropped into her now-just-warm coffee. I had become transfixed initially as I watched it make its journey down the curve of her cheek, linger for but a moment and then plummet helplessly, haplessly towards the half-empty glass. She looked up, and our eyes locked.
"What... What's *wrong?*"
She repeated my question and gazed back into her drink, stirring what was left. I merely nodded my affirmation.
"I... Well... Nothing." She paused for a moment and looked back up. "Nothing and everything. You know? You know that feeling where everything seems off and nothing seems right and you don't know where to go or what to do or how to react or how to *cry* anymore? That's what's wrong.
"I mean, it's so much at once, and it's so little left inside of me to feel and it's those wounds that want to heal- I *know* they do- when all they seem capable of is growing deeper...
She stared at me. We locked gazes, both secretly waiting to see who would blink first. Hers twitched, and I closed my eyes in quiet reflection.
"You know all of this- this is all just now. None of this is forever. Nothing is, really, but most of this isn't even next *month*. It's only just now," I offered my best, it seemed to be the only thought I could form.
"I... I know that. I've always known that."
She sighed, forlorn.
"I've always kn..." She trailed off...
I spoke softly, "It doesn't help, does it?"
"It does. Really, it does. But only in those brief moments of clarity- the ones where I can step outside of myself and truly examine this... this life I have. The rest of the time, I'm covered in this shroud- a blanket that covers me; of worry, of sadness, of bitter tears cried for no *good* bitter reasons... They stick with me, you know? This shroud; I can't take it off. I can't shed it. It's a burden, it's a curse... It grows thicker with every tear I cry, and with every moment where I truly lose focus."
She gently brushed her hair from her eyes, and slowly brought her hands back down to rest on the table.
Her beauty blurred, slightly, as the image of her slowly became the product of a lens made of tears. I wiped my eyes, and wondered if she knew how she looked to me in that moment.
"It's incredible, isn't it?" she inquired.
"All of this." She drew her arms above her head slowly, deliberately. "The pain we feel, the happiness we long for, and the masks that we wear in between... It's just..."
I echoed her in a whisper: "Incredible."
"What do you do when... when you run out of words to describe it all? When no word or turn of phrase seems to capture this essence- what do you... what do *we* do?" She asked, almost to no one, almost to everyone.
For a moment, we sat still. The clouds quietly trekked across the sky behind her, painting a canvas, unmatched. The flowers behind her grew dim, ever so slightly. And the breeze ran through her hair, and for a moment, I could see *that* girl again. And for a moment, I smiled softly.
"I think that when that happens, we have nothing left *to* do but sit here, enjoying ourselves, watching the beauty surrounding us- letting it explain itself, letting it remind us that this is just now, that nothing is forever... ...letting it remind us what we need to enjoy, and what we need to ignore. You know?"
Another tear crawled down her face as she replied, "I know."
I looked back up, and saw it- the truth, so real, so pure. The truth, that *that* girl- with the gorgeous hair and the beautiful smile and those amazing eyes- that she was most perfect when her cheeks were stained with the path her tears had taken, a quivering smile, and hair disheveled, so slightly. It was *then* that she was most beautiful; serene.
And *I* smiled.
Previous musing: Point-Counterpoint: The Matrix Revolutions
Next musing: Your silly attempt to sleep is futile, you see...
|Back to disillusioned's Notebook :: Back to the Musings|
|<-- Log in to leave a note, or create an account, if you don't already have one|