In The Stars
Some moments are ephemeral. Like a meteor shower. Quick. Beautiful. Memorable. We were ephemeral.
It was lovely while it lasted but it needed to end. It was no one’s fault, maybe Fate’s. It was written in the stars a billion years ago. We are not meant to complete each other’s puzzles. I was meant to left him partially unbroken. I am not the one who will fix him wholly. No, I even think we’re not supposed to fix other people.
We can’t always save others. We can’t stop them to feel any pain of some sort. We can just encourage them to continue despite the adversities. We can give them the strength to cry and grieve when they need to. We can assure them that they can feel things when they are with us and we still accept them. We can hold their hand while they figure out how to get out of the dark. We can cheer them on when we see them saving themselves.
I was on the bed reading a book and he was on the floor scrolling on Facebook. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. I don’t know what we will have for dinner, maybe Mexican. He rested his head on the bed and I caressed his hair. It was soft, like of a woman. I stopped reading to watch the sunlight dance through the windows. Different shades of yellow and orange filled the room. I heard him let out a heavy sigh. I was too scared to ask why.
“I’m going back to her,” he said. I just nodded like it was the most usual thing for us to discuss.
He caught my hand that was caressing his hair. He held it like it was fragile glass. He gave it a soft kiss, almost a whisper. “I’m going back to her,” he repeated.
He looked at me, his eyes with unshed tears. I nodded at him, making it clear that I heard him loud and clear. “You’re going back to her.” There’s no question to it. I said it with finality. I knew from the beginning that this is just transit.
I fold the top corner of the page I was reading to remember where I stopped. Then I stood up from the bed. I went to the table nearby and got my phone. “What do you want for dinner? Let’s just order.” You stared at me. We both don’t know how to read each other’s emotions at that moment. I replayed that scene so many times but I still can’t pinpoint what you truly felt that time. In my dreams you were regretful but in my nightmares you were relieved.
You stood up too and went to hug me. Tightly. It wasn’t your embrace that’s suffocating me though. I could smell your favorite cologne and that memory will always be embedded in my mind. I never learned to hate it, don’t worry.
After a week, I saw her post. A picture of you sitting across the table. Blue, red, and violet lights. I can imagine the sounds because we’ve been there. Laughing so many times. But you’re with her now. Laugh with her always, please. About inane things or even serious ones. Laugh until you both have tears in your eyes. Laugh until both your stomachs hurt. Be happy.
Let me be for a short while. I’ll figure things out, I always do. It’s okay. Everything is okay.
“ I don’t want you to pretend
To love me
No, you don’t love me
That’s okay I’ll be just fine
This was not a waste of time” (Stay, The Ridleys)
