Silent But Strong

I really must re-visit this, for it is incomplete. The tone is not right.

"You're silent but strong,
 (yeah, I'm playing that card)
and you're noticing nothing again..."
- This Photograph is Proof (I Know you Know) by Taking Back Sunday

I loved her, but I couldn't stand another moment of her inhuman stare.

"What the Hell made you like this?" I screamed at her that day, I recall, as she- so pale she always was, so thin- stood grim against the wall of the school.

Her face, made hideous by malice, stayed compassionless and inhuman, glaring to the right of me. Only a few moments after my question, she turned her eyes, full of unspeakable evil, to meet mine, offering a glimpse into a dark world I didn't then understand in the least.

She offered me no answer, and, at first, stood still as death. But, like the other times, her form did not last long.   Her shoulders, held proudly back, fell to the front in defeat to emotion. Her being- built of stone- collapsed. The tears, formed so hastily, welled within her eyes and fell down unto her- my, actually- brown jacket, splattering the jacket with black marks of pain. I knew that, like always, I had gone too far when she began to cry. I had allowed myself to expel my anger- how she angered me when she was turned to stone!- in the only way that ever broke her down- violently. After such a brutal awakening- if you could call it that, for it sent her spiralling into a different type of darkness- I never knew how to comfort her. When these "spells" overcame her, I would stand and stare, looking at her as she cried from a pain I couldn't begin to fathom, because she never herself encountered it.

Eventually, as with all the other times, her tears began to fall less steadily and her breathing slowed (though still her eyes, blue as a sapphire, shone with moisture). She never allowed me to long of  a look at her when she was in this state.. Shame, for even then she was beautiful. Blessing, because she was beautiful in a fading, slowly dying way.

"I don't know... Why do you, all of people, not see?" Her words were barely audible, muffled by my jacket. I offered her no answer. What was I to say? We were running out of time to see each other, and I stood no chance of patching things up in time to see each other off for the day happily. I stared at the pattern of my jacket- a dragon- still sprinkled with tears. And there we stood, us two; my feet growing sore and my head pounding with exasperation.

Then, as I had foreseen, our time had come. Ten or so silent minutes had passed as I stared at her and she off into the distance, drying tears and hiding her face. We departed, ever silent, none for the better and eventually, I knew, for the worse. I knew what was to come: she would continue to become that impenetrable, callous, scary being, and it would grow worse. Each time that she withdrew into the cold, merciless, inhuman, ghost of who she really is, her face would betray more and more evil. Evil, marring the face of one so beautiful, so gentle, so sweet..

With nothing else to do those days, I recall that I spent them away from her. The few glances that she afforded me showed that the icy her was, for the first time, reigning supreme. I, I am not a fool, and I deduced that she was intent on other-throwing me- her King, at one point- and exiling me from her presence... Which was, I thought, perhaps what would make her- and, I began to think, me- happiest. So I waited, preoccupied endlessly with all sorts of things I didn't do when she was about me and acting as the warm person she could be.

I offered no fight the day she marched up to me and broke up with me. Her words, though inscribed within my head, are not within my direct reach; I could not summarize them here if I wanted to. I do recall that I felt no shock, for the day was long in coming. I also recall that  I saved the remorse- what a disgusting emotion, anyhow- I held within me for later. I believe that is when I first discovered the benefits of that practice she so perfected. Yes, I found how to turn to stone myself.

Stone I remain, to this day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, a year later, I never see her as stone. She seems.. Weak. Human... And, sometimes, compassionate. As for me, a stone man I am now. Stone, I was during the next few days as she cried (for what, though?). Stone, I am, when she calls ( I am stronger than she, for I never answer!). Stone, I am, when she tries to talk to me (talk all you want, but never shall I listen). Stone- inhuman- I have become indefinitely. Never shall I stray- being stone is secure, and emotions, instable and uncontrollable, maim and kill.