Patience

I cared. Oh, how deeply I cared for her. Yes, this was exactly what I had wanted all my life. Something to hold on to, something … worthy. Yes indeed, she was worthy of my attention. You think me insane, do you not? Well, I cannot say I am not. Though, aren’t we all? We all get obsessions, do we not? Yes, that is exactly what this was. An obsession.

It was a beautiful day outside. She caught my eye. Oh, how quickly she caught my eye. She had been walking from the river with a pot and a basket back to her home. Such clarity of beauty that was marred by bruises. Bruises that she had most likely endured from being an outcast in her own society. It did not matter that her skin was so wonderfully dark. Her abrasions were discernible to the blind. It hurt to see her in such a state. Such pain she must have felt! I would change that soon enough. So out of place, she caught my eye. So, so magnificently out of place. A citizen of the country in which I was deployed. I had been sent to keep the peace and ensure the safety of my fellow soldiers. The day I laid my eyes on her was the most glorious. And each time after is as if it was the first. She noticed my presence one day and stared, just for a moment, then she hurried along. She had noticed me! But she ran. She must have been frightened by the uniform. No matter. I am a patient man.

Oh, how I longed to see her more and more as the days rolled by. Training had taken too much time, but I managed to find the moments to view her. I continued to see her about the village and prayed that she knew my language. Oh, how I prayed! I interacted with her for the first time. I said hello. I prayed again that she would understand me. Yet, she lacked such knowledge. My prayers meant nothing to God, I suppose. I left the interaction quite disheartened. No matter. I am a patient man.

The day came that I had finally gotten enough courage to find and give her flowers. Oh, how my troops laughed when I brought her flowers. They mocked me. How dare they mock me? I silenced them with more intense, grueling, and exhausting training, and all the while I, entranced by her beauty, stood cackling. Though she accepted them, I noticed she had thrown them away quite quickly. Perhaps it was a cultural custom. Perhaps she was allergic. Perhaps they were dying. Day by day, I attempted more and more to bring her gifts, to speak to her, and to be around her. She was shy; so incredibly timid. The flowers were thrown away, the bread and fruits tossed into the river, and all the while I still smiled. She was playing hard to get, I suppose. No matter. I am a patient man.

I noticed how the villagers jeered in their native tongue at her every day. They hurled insults and food and laughter at her; they jeered. Oh, how infuriated I was that those filth jeered. How insanely, indubitably, unbelievably irate I became. One day was particularly terrible. I stood and shielded her from the bread and foreign fruit and whispered lovingly to her. I am sure she did not understand. No matter. I am a patient man.

I brought her bread many times, and all those times she had refused it gently. How humble! How kind! Each time I left her, there was such fullness in my chest, butterflies in my stomach, clouds in my head. I felt as light as a feather. Once, I stole away in the night to see her. Simply to watch her sleep. How beautifully she breathed as she slept. I returned to my tent to find a soldier waiting for me. Waiting to express their concern. I told him it was nothing. That I simply had fallen in love. Weak. He called me weak. He left the tent and I, furious as I was, attempted to sleep. Sleep did not come. It was no matter. I am a patent man.

Finally, the day came. That one particular day, my wrath was inexorable, and my ruthlessness was inescapable. I let the red take hold of me and I slaughtered every last one, every last one of them. I started with my soldiers who laughed. Next, the villagers who jeered, all now nothing but annihilated pools of absolutely nothing, just the same as they were in life. How dare they, how dare they, how dare they disgrace my love and slur me!? The unadulterated painting of perfection, such incredulous magnificence she was. No more would slander vitiate her image. I hear aircrafts. It seemed I had resided past my stint. No matter. I have unearthed our cavern, a new, glorious native where I keep my darling close, away from the threat of slight from unworthy eyes. Let them come! I invite their battle for the chaos I conceived. I am a patient man.

They dare attempt to remove me from my new home. They dare threaten trial and execution for the heinous deed. I shall never return, never surrender, never allow my love to leave. She is mine to love and love alone for the rest of our days. Let them come, let them come, let them come! I am ready. They cannot cease what already was executed. She is mine alone. Heed my words and leave me be, gentlemen I implore you do not quarrel with such power I wield. Such simple fools are those who claim love makes a man weak. Oh, just let them come. My blood will not stain those despicable uniforms, my blood, my blood will … my blood. My … blood? I find deep red staining the rock beneath, spreading, spreading … spreading w-wide … What … t-treachery is this … that my beloved had s-stolen my … my bayonet … m-my rifle … she … she did n-not … love me?