I'm here. I'm
finally here after six years of lonely searching. And yet, it feels
like I'm returning, but that's impossible. We never found this place.
Still, your name seems spray-painted on the crisscrossing steel beams
above and around me. The paint is faded, worn down from years of
forgotten experience. The train-tracks that led me so far from home
just keep on going without me. And, like me, there's no reason for
them to continue, no reason for them to exist. It's been six years
since the train stopped running. But everything about this place
reminds me of you. These sights we never got to see remember and miss
you. The river rushes below as if to flee the lonely cold I've lived
in for so long.
You said you'd meet
me here. It was New Years day at four am. We had snuck out together
for the first time. The cold was bitter like a warm cup of black
coffee. We drank it in like it was caffeinated. We had just climbed
onto our high school's roof and lay down to look at the stars. The
sky was clear of clouds, but full of stars. The moon shone down on us
as gently as a lover's touch. We took off our gloves and interlaced
our fingers.
“We should run
away together one day...” You said with a tone of dreary
dreaminess.
“Where would we
go?” I asked, ready to go at any moment.
You took a moment
to think before declaring: “we'll follow the railroad until we find
a new home!”
“Well I'm ready
to go when you are.” I assured you, but you shook your head and
fell silent for a few moments.
Finally you said:
“we can't leave yet. But one day we'll leave and we'll see each
other on the bridge along the way.” Two months later you were gone
without so much of a word and I was left wondering if I should follow
you.
Freshly fallen snow
covers everything, but it feels like burning hot ash against my skin.
It blinds me, turns the world around me into one blur of darkness and
white. I'm lost and you'll never come to guide me further down the
path we promised we'd take together. This was supposed to be our
place. I can see us now, holding hands and just watching the current
drift away our worries. Our hands are cold, but letting go is worse
than frostbite. I see the two of us pouring our love into winter, not
to change it, but to remember it. None of this matters. Just as fast
as we appear, we vanish.
I miss you. I never
thought I would have to, but here I am. It's been six years, and
nothing has changed. Is there any way to remedy this grief? Or is all
of eternity not enough to cure this sickness? And then there's the
frustration. Why did you have to go? Why didn't you tell me? Why was
there nothing I could have done? Why didn't I see it coming? These
questions plague me in the night and in the day. Sometimes I remember
pieces from your diaries and fall to the ground in tears because I
should have seen it coming. But even the blood-stained diaries told
me nothing. What's worse is that when the wind blows, I hear your
name on them. When the stars shine down on this decrepit shell I've
become, I feel the touch of your hand against mine. You're not here,
but I feel like you're listening.
I remember our
first kiss. It was December, three months before you left. We had
spent the night at a friend's birthday party and I was just dropping
you off at home. Your hair was let down and when we stood silently in
front of your door, you put it behind your ears and looked up at me.
It was the look. I knew immediately what you wanted me to do. I
cupped your face with my hands, leaned in, and asked, “can I kiss
you?”
You grinned,
brushed my face with your hand, and then replied. “Absolutely.”
Your lips were upon mine in seconds and all at once, the creeping
cold stopped feeling so invasive. All of a sudden, the winter had
become a friend because I wasn't alone in it anymore. It's different
now though.
Winter is haunted
by your ghost. Aren't you in every snowflake and grey cloud that
hangs over me? Aren't you in the rushing river below and in the ice
that flows on top of it? Aren't you at the bottom of every frozen
lake, embalmed by the unforgiving darkness, completely alone? And
aren't I just some fool trying to break through the ice to dive in
after you and pull you out?
But I know I can't.
I saw how they painted your face white so you could look like you
were resting in peace. I saw them lower you into the frosty ground,
never to be seen again. I saw them leave one by one, some in tears,
others holding them back for when they were alone. I stayed. I was
there until my family arrived to bring me home and keep me from
joining you in the ground. As much as they wanted to help, they
remained silent when my screams would reach for the stars, asking how
you could leave us like that. They tried to comfort me when I would
break down in tears, blaming myself for what had happened. Everyone
around me saw my grief and tried to console me. Some said time would
heal all wounds. But for grief like that, like this, eternity isn't
long enough. I guess that's why I'm here.
I'm here to tell
you that I love and miss you, but also screw you for abandoning me.
Screw you for deciding life wasn't good enough for you! Screw you for
leaving us without a word! Screw you for not asking for help when you
needed it! Screw you for not meeting me here and, most of all, screw
you for leaving before I could tell you that I loved you! I've lived
underneath the shadow of your choice for six years, full of regret
and frustration, wishing that I could change the past! But I can't,
and I'm done making impossible wishes! I'll always love you, but I
can't follow you to the bottom of the ice-cold river! I hope death
was everything you thought it would be...
Bye.
-Zero
