Reverie
1. a state of meditation or fanciful musing: lost in reverie.
2. a daydream.
3. a fantastic, visionary, or impractical idea.
She used to be so happy. No, maybe happy isn't the right word. She used to be able to seem so happy. Yes, that's better. Because I knew she wasn't. I always knew, whether she told me or not, I could just tell whenever something was wrong. Call it intuition, call it a bond, call it coincidence, it doesn't really matter.
All I know is I was usually right.
"What's wrong?"
The question I seem to ask so often, and I don't always get the answer.
She shone, so brightly before. She danced around, she smiled, sang and hid behind her hair. She brought light and love into everyone and everything, like a contagious flame.
But she still wasn't happy.
Skyler... My little Skylark... She twirled and spun, mesmerizingly beautiful in her glow, and at first, all I saw was this light. Her warmth, care and love mended parts of me that I never realised were fractured. Not always broken, though she healed a lot of those parts too, but the tiny hairline fractures in my soul that I had never been aware of. Her love and light filled them like glue, until I felt more whole than ever before.
She gave more to me than she needed to, and still continued to give.
It was dreamlike. She was dreamlike. Or at least, it seems like a dream now anyways, something lost in memory, a time before all this.
Before this nightmare.
Skyler... My little Skylark... So beautiful, so fragile, so lost.
It slowly became apparent that we had some connection. From the start, I've never felt a stronger bond with anyone, and those who I have felt such a strong bond to are no longer with me. So to have this girl, this little Skylark, caring for and healing me, loving me and seeing me for who I am, it was like a dream. She didn't care what I had done, she forgave all the mistakes I had made, she accepted the me of the now, and loved it like it was her own child.
For a while, that's what I was to her. A dear child, who she must protect and care for, a child who she would gladly die protecting. And for a while, I felt that way too. I still do, but less so.
For a while, I saw her as a mother, a sister and comforter, but that developed. As time went on, I saw her as more than that. I began to see her as a companion, a partner, dare I say a wife? It turned on its head, and suddenly I realised how she had felt. I realised why she had always sacrificed so much for my happiness and protection. Because I too felt an overwhelming sense of protection and care, even of duty, towards her.
And right now, as I lie awake in darkness and remember how we came to be, it hurts me. This need to protect her, to protect my little Skylark, is unbearable. And she has disappeared into a deeper darkness than I've ever known her to be in right now, I know that whatever is happening, whatever she is feeling or thinking, it isn't good. I feel a duty to protect her, from both the darkness and herself, but she has pushed me away further than ever.
So all I can do is anchor myself to the rocks, bear the tides of pain and torment that batter and bruise me, and hope that she returns soon, safely.
In the meantime, I will lie in a beautiful reverie.
No comments:
Post a Comment