Dry my tears

She had not moved for the past thirty minutes. I tried to reach out to her but I knew my touch could not make it better, not this time. Why I stood in front of her this whole time? I could not find it in me to leave her. She had not said a word for the past forty minutes. She was hurt. And I encouraged the pain by not comforting her. I should have caught her when she fell. I should have taken her into my arms and carried her to bed. But, I did not. I knew she despised me, at least for these past few moments. If only I could tell her...

"Will you stop?" Stop what?

"Will you stop looking at me?", her voice trembled.

"I am sorry, but for the first time I cannot do as you command."

She whimpered. I wish I could touch her. I wish I could warm-up her heart but if I did I would just hurt her even more by creating a shield of love.

"Please," she whispered. "Take it out. It is piercing so profoundly."

"If I do, you would bleed to death. I will not carry such sin."

She took a hold of my foot and dug her fingers deeply. I had to bite my tongue to protect her ears from hearing my cry. She was stabbing my heart.

"I asked nicely, so you will take it out." Who had taken control of her voice? Her heart's voice was taken over by her mind.

"Please!" she looked at me. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her cheeks were flushed and wet. Her lips had traces of blood. She bit herself. But what was more frightening was the shadow that ruled over her brown eyes. "I cannot do this alone."

I knelt down and, in an instant, she launched herself at me. She held onto me for her dear life suffocating me. She did not know how my lungs battled for breath nor how my heart anxiously tried to look for a way to comfort her without hurting her. She wet my clothes and silenced her cries by letting them fall freely like a cascade into my heart.

"Please, hold me. Why are you not holding me?", she screamed.

I took hold of her and gently pushed her away.

"Why are you being so heartless? Stop putting a barrier between us. I need you, in good and bad. We promised each other we would be there no matter what." Her cracked voice could barely keep up with her words. She needed to breathe and that is what I was giving her: a breath. I reached out to her only to be met by a slap. My cheek stung. She set a fire on my face. It caressed me with such bitterness.

"Do not hold me just because I ask you." And so I sat in front of her. A thin crystal wall kept us from each other.

None of us said a word for a while. She kept on staring at the floor while I could not help but look at her. No matter the amount of sadness that surrounded her she still looked beautiful. She still was the woman that caught me off guard that morning in the coffee shop. I remember her flushed cheeks when she figured out she had taken my chair and her stubborn mind that battled with me for over five minutes because I wanted her to join me and she kept on making excuses.

"How can you be so calm?"

"Whatever made you think such a thing?" She looked at me for a second and sniffed.

"You have not said a word nor have you acted out."

"What do you expect me to say? What do you expect me to do? I am here." She shook her head and covered her eyes.

"It feels like you are not. You are so distant." I closed my eyes and inhaled taking in all the desperation from her air. The frustration and sadness were too much for both of us. I gently peeled her hands off her face but her eyes were kept closed. The key no longer belonged to me. She was in full control. I had to find a way to ease her. How? "Why are you still here?" she whispered.

"What is haunting you?" Tears kept on falling down her face.

"Everything. I am falling and there is no earth to catch me."

"Why did you push yourself down the hole?"

Her lips trembled, "Because my hand was not strong enough to catch me. And your hand was missing which made it inevitable."

"You are strong."

"No! Do not say such words. You do not know who I am only I know." She could not be so right and wrong. I knew I had much more to learn and only she knew her true self. But, I also knew her in ways she could not: only I could see the twinkle in her eyes every time she heard a bird's chirping, only I could differentiate her true smile from the others, only I knew the different meanings of her touch... "How can you look at me with such emptiness?" She hit me right into my soul. I gently placed my finger under her chin and tilted her head up.

"Look at me," she bit her bottom lip. "Please, look at me."

She hesitated but eventually gave in. Her eyes could barely open up for her tears had glued them.

"Am I empty?" Her eyes watered. I knew she could see my desperation. For the first time in my life, I felt lost. "I am looking for you because the maze you have created is by far the most difficult one I have ever had to solve. You got me running around in circles." I saw a hint of a smile. And so, I gave her a small one. I knew what image popped into her head. The countless times she had me running around looking for her because she enjoyed playing hide-and-seek in museums and parks. She would just disappear and leave a written note in my pockets: 'Come find me' she would write. It was always simple for her scent had been imprinted on my nostrils and her rapid beating heart guided my ears. I knew I would always find her and I promised that I will every time. But right now, I had no map, no compass to guide me to her heart for she had taken millions of locks and chains to keep me from reaching out to her. "I reach out and you pull away. What do you wish for me to do?" She took hold of my hand and caressed it. She did not know. Or maybe she did but was afraid to say it. She placed my hand against her chest. Her heart was weak yet its beats were strong. I attempted to reach it and touch its scars but the closer I got, the more it burned.

"I want you to hug me, tightly. And take it out."

I sighed, "I cannot."

"Why not? Can you not see I am hurting?" she cried desperately.

Believe me, I know. My hand will not stop burning, my mind is anxious and my heart has not stopped from crying. I slide closer to her until we are one breath away.

"I am hurt. I am also in pain." She looked up at me, "I am in pain because I cannot make it better for you."

"But you can," she whispered.

I pressed my forehead against hers and battled with her knights. Everywhere I looked they sliced me. I could not see the images nor read the words that tormented her. I had to admit to myself it was the first time I felt powerless. I could not caress her mind nor her heart. I could not kiss away her fears for they were too strong. "I know I can, but I will not," I whispered.

I heard her whimper. I bit the inside of my cheek. I had to control myself from hugging her. I had to let her be. I had to let her feel her pain. "It kills me seeing you this way." I took hold of her hand and kissed it. She opened her eyes as she felt the thin fabric hanging from her hand. She smiled.

"My handkerchief."

"And centuries later you still carry such a tradition."

She let out a breathy chuckle. "Will you do the honor of drying my tears?" I shook my head.

"I believe it must be you. I cannot dry your tears, only you can. I am a shoulder to cry on but I cannot be your handkerchief. Dry them and with it dry it all."

She wiped away her tears and dried her entire face. She placed her handkerchief on my hand but I held on to hers. She needed to understand and so I asked her gently to keep her eyes open.

"We are all a beautiful mess. We cannot lend people the power to dry our tears because even if they do, they will not dry. They will try to dry them even when they are still falling. They will not wait until the last drop. Also, the ones you love will not always be there when you cry."

"But why? Why did you not hug me?"

"Because you wanted to stop feeling. You wanted me to take the thorn out like a band-aid."

"I wanted to be myself again before the storm hit. To be beautiful."

"But you are," I whispered. "Take a look."

The damp handkerchief boarded up a rose until it turned into one. Its red was fiery and bold as blood. I leaned back and handed her the rose. "Even a rose has its thorns. They do not take its beauty, in fact, they nurture it. They make it strong." She delicately tried to find a free space of the stem to hold on to but every corner seemed to be dominated by thorns. "They will not harm unless you give them the power to." She bit her bottom lip and without breathing took a firm hold of the rose. She waited for the stung but it never came. She even smiled. I tuck out one of its petals and placed it underneath her eye. "Let it." And a tear fell. The petal caught it and let itself be watered by it. Another thorn grew on the rose stem. "It is you and my, you are beautiful." The shadows in her eyes disappeared. The chains and locks from her heart fell and the knights inside her mind retreated. I felt like I could breathe again. "And this," I motioned the damp handkerchief on my hand, "I shall keep a hold of it for who knows when you might need it." And a sincere smile from her was all it took for the surroundings to return back to its natural color and peel off the black and white.

She gathered up her tears and stood up. She lent me a hand. "Shall we go?" I smiled.

I took hold of her hand and immediately felt the warmth of the sun. Her gentle kiss was tender. We walked off the scene and the people around us returned to their natural moving pace just as the sounds nature and urban life came back with full thunder.

Our arms swayed and from our intertwined fingers grew and blew thousands of rose petals marking the path of a new beginning.