Gone

Because some things never last

You open the door, waiting for the voice that would warm the coldness of the world that had assaulted you once again. In the moment that you held the knob and twisted it open, you believed. You are home.

The door swings open, yawning like a sleepy feline. It immediately turns into a hiss as air greets you. Caterwaul as truth slaps you again and again that no voice will warm you from the cold. Not now, not ever.

There is no home.

She had left you and you know it but it pierces and stabs and damn hurts like hell again and again and again.

You choke on words you wish to say, but you say it after struggling for an eternity and a second.

"I'm home."

Vainly you strain your ear. Was that a rustle? A sigh, perhaps? Might it be laughter? A growl? For a moment your eyes glaze as your mind hears and conjures dreams, as your sight settles on a vision that winds over and over again.

You are roused from your dream with a splash of liquid on your cheek, and you do not need to taste it to know that it is salt. Just when you think you have shed enough salt to fill the oceans of the earth, the next day you spill once more. You never cry, but there is always a first time.

The first time was when you realized she's gone.

"You broke your promise," you accuse. You flinch as you hear the tinkling of chimes. She loved chimes and you loved chimes because you loved her. <i>No no no</i>, you desperately correct yourself. <i>Love</i> her. Love. Her.

Your heart breaks. <i><b>Love her.</i></b>

Slowly, tentatively, you inch inside. Fear crashes you in waves and cackles as you drown. The door closes behind you in a whisper and you sink in a chair, devoid of energy that the world had sucked from you again. You remember how you were always strong, powerful - she is the sun and you are the moon, and you reflect all her light that never disappears.

But all there is left are clouds.

"You're a liar," you snarl. Something constricts in your chest, and you wonder dazedly how something that is gone can still twist and turn and burn. You press your hand to the void in your chest. The splinters shatter into more pieces.

You long to remove all traces of her. Long for it as much as you long to stop breathing. The air is never the same since she left.

<i>("Hello hello. It. Is. Us! Lucky you for reaching this number, but unlucky you because I'm gone! HA HA! I am the ever-elusive, the untractable, the epheme - ah, okay. So you're just supposed to leave a message and I shall try to get back to you, yeah? That's not a promise! But this smirking donkey with a stick-up-his-a*s always calls back, so no worries there. Bye-bye bye-bye!")</i>

You call your home just to hear her voice once more. Hear the music, hear the life that was hers and yours. Hear the endlessness that you believe was there. Still there.

<i>(You know what? You SUCK. You couldn't even cook a decent meal and you hassle ME? So I'm not a chef, but at least I don't set the WATER on FIRE! And because you're a prick, buy me the ingredients for sweet and sour pork because I'll be damned if I can't shove it up your sweet a*s and into your throat that you suffocate tonight. Love ya!)</i>

You read it once more.

<i>(Just what the hell was dried blood and ink doing in the white shirt I bought for you?!?! You owe me for the laundry. Oh yeah, dearest, my chocolates, 'kay?)</i>

You read it again.

<i>(Know what? You're so unromantic. Proposing on a bloody letter!?! After all that lecture you gave me about being true to your FEELINGS and being HONEST with yourself, you give me this drivel?! Propose to me in person so I can say YES I'LL MARRY YOUR HYPOCRITICAL B*****D SELF YEAH?)</i>

The words are getting blurry again.

<i>(Just have to run around the corner. Don't get too wound up or you'd be a prune. I'd wash 'em when I get back.)</i>

But you can't throw the notes and the letters away.

<i>("I'm not in the mood to wash the dishes tonight. I'll just leave it for tomorrow morning, yeah? There's a movie on that I want to catch.")</i>

The dishes from your last dinner together are still there.

<i>("I bought your present and it's behind the sofa. Don't peek. I'll know.")</i>

It's still there.

<i>"I hate you"</i> - three words that die even before they reach your lips. You want to be angry because you want to make things easier but you know the words are a lie and things will never be easy again.

<i>("Go on.")

How can I when the air is gone?</i>

You had promised never to hurt her. She hurt you.

You had promised never to leave. She left you.

You had promised never to break her heart. She broke yours.

<i>Liarliarliarliarliarliar...</i>

Your eyes see her hair, her eyes, her lips, her smile. Your head drops to your hands, your grip tight on the frame.

<i>You're the worst. You're just like everyone else. You left me. You left me.</i>

Your shoulders hunch and you drop to your knees. You're tired, so tired. So damn tired...

"Please..."

Her urn gleams in the darkness.

<i>Come back.</i>

The broken plea of your shattered heart.

<i>Come back...</i>