Insanity (She)

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When I asked Why?, you spoke of a tiresome battle that you would not win. Fight, though you might persistently, but there was no chance of you ever being victorious. Still I did not stop believing in you, or holding your hand when you stood slumped beside me. Or taking a seat beside you on the ground when your body simply would not allow you to do so.

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One night I stood outside of the convenience store where we worked, waiting for you to bring the car around, only to find out you had gone. My worry for you was endless, I made myself sick with it. But you called, too many times I asked Where you were. You chuckled and I can remember no anger, only hurt, when you told me sarcastically, “You know where I’m not.”

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Six of the loneliest months of my life passed for you and I, only not we, and the new year approached steadily. I remember feeling some happiness about what would be my new start, until I got a call from you saying Soon. Despite myself, I asked you When, and at that moment there was a knock at my door. Of course it was you.

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The next two months to mention were bliss, something like living a fairytale. Fairytales that you had never believed in and, my White Knight, you turned into a villain. On a most beautiful night we sat in your Mother’s backyard, hand in hand, when you got up from your seat beneath me. I noticed it then, you were slumped again, and all you could say is you were leaving.

A million questions ran through my mind but all I could mutter was “What?” At the moment that your sage green eyes turned away from me, I knew it was for good, and I stopped questioning you then. Tears filled your eyes, the same way they did my own, and not one word of farewell was spoken. Still I knew, I knew and you - you walked away.

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Now I stare at one picture of a smiling young man, still unbelievably innocent, his eyes wide from the bright light of the camera, with a toothbrush dangling from his lips. That was you. And when finally I gain the courage to look away and shut my eyes, I see a girl, with one arm embracing a headstone of pure granite, while the other is wrapped closely around her middle. That was me. Every day since then I have looked into sage green eyes, that sparkle like yours used to, beneath a mop of black curls. Upon that face is a grin sometimes so breathtakingly familiar that I have to calm myself.

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