I Want to Meet Him

I follow the girl. I don’t know who she is or where she leads me. I don’t think to ask, nor do I worry. I succumb to the comfort as we begin another lap around the halls in the layers. There is no before, there is no after. There is no effort to my movement, as it is happening to me rather than by me.

Wait. I want to meet him. I want so desperately to meet him. I love him.

Can I convey this message to the girl when I have no voice, no means to speak? I must find a way.

She is suddenly gone as I go through the laps alone, turning colorless corners four times to make a perfect square.

The plan is forgotten along with the girl, and I continue on automatic. I am in the layers doing the laps. Again. Then again.

A sudden feeling is here and gone in an instant. I stop, grasping at the whisper that left no imprint, yet knowing somehow of its importance. The layers, comforting as I had followed the girl, change direction. The fluidity of my movement becomes a fading memory as I struggle on my new path.

Is it getting lighter? Brighter? I was unaware it had been dark. Another lap around confirms the change to be true as my journey becomes staggeringly difficult.

The faintest noise breaks through the thickness.

Beep.

A chill in the air covers me with goosebumps.

I shiver.

Voices are far away, yet close by.

Hushed. Rushed. Panicked.

There is a sense of urgency.

Yes. I remember. I want to meet him. I want so desperately to meet him. I love him.

A struggle ensues, almost beyond my capacity, to emerge from the layers. 

Determined, I fight with everything I have. I will not give up.

Brightness. My eyes squint in the spotlight. The harshest light exposes my weakest state.

Words hover in the air above me tumbling through space. Those uncomprehensible fall to the floor like raindrops while others penetrate my understanding. My circumstance becomes clear.

Too much blood. 

She’s hemorrhaging. 

Pray.

I’m back. Disappointment seeps into me at the realization. The struggle is more than I can bear. I do not have the strength.

My thoughts return to the girl I had followed, knowing we were just someplace else. She was a familiar stranger whom I had trusted in that time and space, but who was she exactly?

She could be a younger version of myself, I thought briefly before casting aside that explanation. Perhaps the girl I had lost so many years ago had come back for me. My heart’s secret only visited in the deepest silence on the rarest of nights. Lying in the dark, I had counted on my fingers the years gone by to see the age she would have been. 

I yearn for the journey she was guiding me through and to be in her presence again. Did she forgive me for the choices made? It was not possible, yet I knew it to be true.

Wait. There’s something. Something joyous. I hold on as it flitters by, teasing me. Come back, come back. There’s something wonderful here. I search the corners of my mind for the memory. Grasping the delicate thread, I run my fingers along its length, inching slowly closer to the answer. Don’t break, I beg. Don’t let go. Don’t breathe. You’re almost there.

Yes. I want to meet him. I have to meet him. I love him.

I will meet him.

Voices turn from urgent to ecstatic at the discovery of my return. The room is buzzing with electricity. Flashes of color dart back and forth as I lay helpless in the eye of the storm. The light beams down on me for all to see my battle. I am exposed.

Cover me, I silently beg, unable to move. My strapped arms extended on either side of my body offer no protection. Cover me, I repeat in vain. The air is cold as my body lay vulnerable. My shivering increases as my teeth begin to chatter.

Faces peer into mine with tearful eyes set in sallow skin. Expressions change at a rapid pace as smiles appear and voices become jubilant. The crowd swirls about in a rotation, as some retreat allowing others to come forward. I am surrounded as words of love and encouragement flow from their mouths.

I have answers in my head. They don’t move from mind to mouth. The distance is too great.

I lay in gaping wonder. Where is he?

“It’s a boy.” They share the news which my heart already knew.

I am back for him. However, I cannot stay for him.

Stony faces in the background silently stare, needing comfort which I am unable to give. They sit in rows as if in a stadium of sorrow. Are they too far away to see I am back, or are they aware that I am not staying? I stare back at their outlines etched into an invisible mountain.

He’s suspended in front of me, and I finally sigh with relief. My joy bubbles up from deep within, surfaces, and overflows. My eyes shed tears that trickle past my ears and collect in pools behind me. 

I study him. Wrapped in a blanket, he is warm and comforted. His closed eyelids are fringed with infinite lashes casting shadows onto his full cheeks. His lips are pursed as if about to suckle. He is my heart and soul, my everything. 

Is he minutes old or hours? Perhaps an eternity stretched before and after this time where our lives cross. Gratitude overwhelms me for the intersected moment.

I cannot move. Bring him closer. I chase my inside voice around my mind searching for my outside voice. Despite the effort, I am silent, the words remaining as echoing thoughts.

I search the eyes surrounding me to make a connection, then plead for my son. We have but one chance to meet or we miss each other. We cannot miss each other. I only need the briefest moment, enough to become a part of him.

Gentle hands bring his face closer to mine, the face of my son. His sweet perfection pulled me back from the journey with the girl, up through the layers.

I stretch like a monster to lift my head and extend my lips.

I kiss my son.

I inhale him.

I adore him.

Placing my head back down, I am exhausted. I watch his beautiful eyes open as they find mine. Our gaze holds everything in an instant. Then he watches as my eyelids close. 

His first kiss and my last.