Distraction

Woke up that morning but wished I didn’t. Got called by my name and wished that identity wasn’t mine. It was still dark outside, and the amniotic silence around me made the incoming inner thunderstorm  even more destabilizing. One simple yet devastating phrase tore me to pieces. After the pronunciation of that  single sentence the rest became an incessant meteoric sequence of nothing more than mumbling noises. 

I shut the door of my house with my keys trembling in my hands and rushed to my car. I started to drive fast, attempting to race with time. In my head flashes of memory blurred my vision. My brain was pouring out all it had got: all our slowly fading moments, and the echoing laughters; all that was most precious to me, but that I didn’t hold on to tight enough. I was too late when i realized it, and it was scary not really being able to tell myself how it had happened, but it had. There wasn’t anything more atrocious that I could think of other than the torturous sound of my heart sinking into the deepest of my own monstrous abysses. 

Deep down it went, down where time meant nothing anymore and my tardiness had seemed to lose its value; but the reality is that it hadn’t and that it never would have, even though I wished it could. I was too late and I could have never forgiven it to myself. Those months that I had valued as eternities had turned into seconds, it was just a matter of perspective. I thought I had time but time is an aleatory dimension and it was foolish for a man like me to underestimate it like I did. Time is so precious but I was too blind to realize it, and it would have been useless for me to be thunderous, because time had taken her away and my cries would be resounding in my soul for eternity, where time really had the value that I gave it for so long: non existent. 

It was all my fault, I could have done it all, but I preferred pretending to be blind. Blind in front of the obvious, the crystal clear, tangible evidence that the life orbiting around her was wrong. I took time as she was stretching her hand to me, waving restlessly. I watched her drown alone as rain filled up an unfathomable valley that was going to drag her down to her bier. All that hubbub, to me, was silent. Only then I realized how grievous silence could be. Ostensible yet apparent, it was all I should have ever noticed.

I thought to myself: If I could hold time’s value within me, would it come back? Would it repay me with all the things I miss valued with it; would it bring her back to me? Back into my arms, the ones in which she is now lifelessly sleeping in. The ones that should have kept her warm, but that are now freezing to her touch. It was all I could have ever wanted, rewind the tape of my asinine actions and hold her close to me once again. But after all, why would it have? Mistakes are made, and they are written with thick ink, unerasable, a taint for life. 

I kept screaming in silence, in the chaos within me in order to find an answer, but her time had gone and mine with hers because what was time if life wasn’t running through it? I was so rambunctious about my own life that I didn’t price hers passing by, day by day, hour by hour. For every glance avoided,  for every missed concern of trespassing her aqua green eyes to see in them a flooded, broken soul. In them I tumbled and crumbled, they were an endless tunnel of marvelous discoveries. She was trapped in that ocean, an ocean that was way too rough for me to lapse in. Just like that I left it undiscovered, I let it flood her. I let the waters of despair fill up her lungs, I turned away as water started to overflow. Her light became dull, her fire died, and when I realized that she had left my life, my life left with her. It was too late for me to turn around and catch it, just like water she leaked right through. 

I stood there, likewise, I was broken. I kneeled to the ground trying to gather back the pieces, but, just like everything else, they slipped right out of my hands. I took her hand, held it tight in mine, tried to scream for help but all hope had already been lost. Nothing could have ever repaired my mistake, nothing could have made time unwind. Life was never easy for anyone so why would it have been lenient with one like me? I used up my chances and nothing I could have ever done would have changed the reality that was lacerating my eyes, rending my heart, mangling my soul. I was to be filled with sorrow,  that was my condemnation for being so selfish. I was blind all my life, but the sight of the consequences made my eyes want to melt. I miss-used my voice all this time, but the truth made me lost for words. I had felt so magnanimous,  but life’s oppressing lesson squashed me and I felt so small, I thought I had it all, but all I heard was the sound of me being alone.

All I had pushed myself so hard to be was going to haunt me forever, wishing I hadn’t worn that mask, so that I wouldn’t have wished to really be so insensitive, to really not feel the seething pain of regret, the regret of being someone I didn’t even know, and losing someone I wished I would have known for the rest of my life. When you omit what life offers you life sees it, and it takes it away, and you can’t do anything but acquiesce it, and so did I, aware of the fact that I would have felt saudade forever.