A Memory in Coalescence

August 20th, 2019

La Paloma

My lady, Sarali:

For a moment, a montage of memories came rushing through my mind. The thoughts of you, although quite lovely, were bursting through my head like that of the serrated mountain range we still live in today. And at that moment, I cried and realized I had forgotten you after so many years. When did I stop talking to you? How did you disappear from my life so quickly?

Sarali. Each day was like a vast minefield. If you don't say or do the right things to the right person at the best time to do it, your words and actions could determine the future. And if you said or did nothing, then there is no outcome. But in the back of my mind, I heard preaching words from a soft, familiar voice. I could have sworn it sounded like yours.

Like the environment I had grown used to, my dream was a weird place of darkness and chaos. After a recap of everything that has happened, life itself seems unreal. But I thought, "those nightmares weren't what they seemed to be." And I trusted that those visions knew the world more than what I could gather in my awareness.

"If a drunkard speaks an honest tongue, so does the subconsciousness. They knew where all the fools were," I thought. Until one day, something awoke within me. I didn't know I was crying in my sleep for you. Tears spilled when I heard a heartfelt whisper in my dreams, struck like fangs ever-reaching deeply into the flesh of my neck.

"I will save you." Your words of whom I praised echoed in my head. You were my first true friend; you saw all the things I had seen and went to all the places I had been. We went through the motions together, laughed, and cried for each other. We didn't care for people who thought they were better than anyone else. Since I departed from you, I have made unforgettable mistakes. I confess that you didn't have to save me many times, as you did without realizing so. I could have done it myself. But it was always you, and I'm unsure why I now see how exceptional you are.

Sarali. I'm angry that remembering your face took this restless night after so long. And then those same nightmares that haunted me before I had met you returned like the angels and devils that sat side by side to my shoulders that night.

"Well done, daughter." There was a familiar, motherly voice in the darkness that I knew, as it harbored false strength for me not to feel sadness. I then remembered the woman that raised me, whispering a deep hunger for her desire, like a bone underneath the flesh, that she wanted me to be just like her. And she tried to sway me into thinking that it was for the better.

Everyone is on a side, and there are many sides to a story. It was difficult to ignore the ongoing thoughts rummaging in my skull for acknowledgment that they were there. Some sides are allied, and some are against each other. People often found themselves hating me because I resembled my mother's likeness. That's what I learned from my Aunt when asking about our relationship with other people who may not understand us. That was also the day she told me she couldn't love me. And from what I knew, those who didn't choose a side weren't there with us anymore. However, those same people hated you for taking my side still. But those kids could also have been at the mercy of the side that wins. I know that people will glorify and celebrate the winners, denying and demonizing the ones losing the war. But why me?

Sarali. Each strand of thought followed the other in my brain but left nowhere, as it stayed with me. It's like I had forgotten who I was, too. But I never honestly slept, only taking short rests. And now I wonder if it's because of the thought of you waking up every morning alone. And despite my obliviousness, I see now that I loved and lost you. And then earning my demons the newfound role of a friend I no longer had.

And yet, my fondest memories surfaced in my last moments of thinking of you. We were under sunshowers. I resolved that as long as you, whom I loved afar, can not find out where my life holds, you no longer needed to save it. Soon after, it became now soft, steady beads of the light rain, with sometimes lightly audible signs of thunder, at an almost constant speed, not seemingly to accelerate down to the gentle slope of rocks below us.

We were two simple ladies, not yet fully enmeshed by anything, sensing the misty air of directionless white amidst the surrounding rhythmic pattering. Until you became the beholder of my life, I hoped you would kill the darkness inside me. I watched the low clouds pass us, as it was still forming, and how soon the drops of water kissed your face. This was my favorite memory of you.

And still, I waited, in the duration of the fox's marriage, as your cries in my imagination became my reign of emotional terror. But then, I watched you in front of me, pacing my breathing, trying to clear these unwanted thoughts with feelings of tranquility. Yet, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, the future that never came induced a state of hibernating melancholiness within me.

Even though each passing thought of you often brought forth the memories of you waving from the rocky path that seemed not too far. I remained standing there in the lightly sprinkled rain. Still, thinking of each encounter and unavoidable conflict I have had. Reflective surfaces like the puddles on the ground that ripples; I regret that I could not save myself from being of a solid heart.

Breaking the stillness of the oscillating lukewarm air, I carefully removed my jacket. I quietly placed it around you, draping the outerwear over your tiny shoulders. If only I had known that this meeting would be my last goodbye. But I know this letter will never meet your gaze.

And I asked you, "Do you ever really love to have something greater that is not small or simple like a nickel?" You smiled at me. I was deeply wounded to ask such a question, but I couldn't help to think, are people loved as much as a nickel is worth? Someone like me with washed-away dreams was hurt and pathetic. Until I looked back, and you were there.

"You become more like yourself once you get ahold of that stranger feeling." Everything unfolded before me when you spun around to meet my eyes. Your swirling hair and bangs billowed upwards to reveal the dearness in your eyes; the wind delicately played with each strand. It was comparable to that of an opening chrysanthemum.

Your narrow shoulders lifted as your whole body turned in my direction with adoring conviction. And you kissed me. And it was like my heart broke because I couldn't hold back the escaping tears that stung. Maybe you knew I wanted to kill the emotions I buried deep in my fists. With eyes closed...

"I'm moving." Feeling this warm touch so gently, a smooth hand softly holding mine, with angelic fingers preciously interlocked, as if to shelter a dear treasure, as I gracefully take a comprehensive step, and another, and light as a red feather from a joyful robin... As I felt the delicate flow of cool air spontaneously dancing with me subtly, I finally opened my dark eyes. Ever-so blinding, yet so beautiful, and no stranger than you, moving beside me. I yearn for us to share such moments of intimacy again, but I know your heart belongs to someone else.

A fragrant peck from a fallen angel woke me up. I remembered being dragged away into what felt like a dream-- we both wanted to disappear. And I'm sorry that you did.

-Paul Lee