Happy Birthday Eternity (10 page)

A dull ache crawls along my skin. 

‘You have approximations of emotions, but you do not know how intense they can become.’

And I start to open my mouth to ask a question.  I start, but I don't manage.  My words fail and fall and falter and I'm left without so much as a sound.

‘She just wants you to understand.’

And with that, Dylan leaves the room.

Evaline watches me with a blank stare.

I'm feeling something, I just don't know what it is.

And I'm aching.

And the pain is starting to make me dizzy.

And my eyes fall shut.

And I dream.

5

I'm nothing without passion.  I haven't been passionate in a millennia.  

I dream of passion with Evaline. 

It's a sensation that feels foreign. 

It's a sensation that I cannot articulate nor truly comprehend. 

I thought I knew what it was.

Turns out the entirety of my life has been the equivalent of the sun cresting the horizon but never truly rising. 

6

I wake up and I can't see straight.  I ache but I'm not aching like I should be.  I'm feeling somewhat comfortable. 

And then I realize that my head is on a pillow.

And I realize that I'm in my parent’s house.

On my bed.

And Evaline is laying next to me.

I press myself against her fake body and I smell her fake hair and I kiss her fake neck. 

My lips are sore.

They sting.  They're swollen.

I should go see a doctor.

But I won't.

The pain will linger.

The pain will last.

The pain will remind me that things can be more than what I let them be.

And I am a creature of limits.  Limits that I impose on myself.  Limits that I have created and held onto without truly knowing or understanding

And I kiss Evaline’s neck and she moans and twists and turns like I always remember her doing.  She turns to me and smiles and buries her face into mine and we embrace, for a moment I think that maybe it's something that I can hold onto. 

I can't.

I'm beginning to realize that what I know, it's not real.

I get up.

Brush my teeth.

Look in the mirror. 

My face is swollen and my eyes are black and blue and my nose is crooked. 

I need to change.

7

I keep pulling my hair as if that will change the world. 

And it doesn't help that I see her all the time.  She's right there but I know that she's not.  And no matter how hard I try to lie to myself, I can't seem to make the situation something that works for me. 

I'm sick to my stomach with a guilty burn that reminds me of an emotion that I thought I forgot.

I wish I could find her.

And I look at her.

I want to yell.

I do yell.

‘I want you back!’

And she looks at me and I know she's not real but she's all I have.

‘Then find me.’

And I stand there for a second.  There's chatter in the background from a television that's on too loud. 

I can't find much to say.  My heart is racing and my forehead shines with a sweat that comes from nerves that burn.

Because I don't know if I can love her like she deserves to be loved.

Because I don't know if I can change who I am.

Because I now doubt all the emotions that I've ever had.

But I guess that's what it's all about.  Fear and doubt.  Right now, my greatest fear, it's of being alone forever.

Forever is a long time. 

And I know that she can't answer, but I ask anyway:

‘Where are you?’

With my body slumping over, with my frame sitting on the edge of a bed that's older than it has any right to be, with my heart trying to crack my ribs and my lips that scab from pain I've felt, with all of this,  I want her to know that I want her back.

And she stands there and stares and she tells me that she'll know where she is when I know where she is.  And me, I'm feeling like I should already know, because I was with the curly haired man.  We were in the city, I know we were.  And so I know that she's in the city.  I know she is.  She had to be with him.  She had to be somewhere close.  She had to be watching.  She knew where I was. 

And maybe it's wishful thinking. 

And I know everything has a meaning. 

There's no way that I would be abducted for no reason at all.  Maybe this is her way of telling me what she's up to these days.  Maybe she's trying to let me know that everything is ok.

I have no clue.

I just want to hold her.

So instead of sulking, I grab a bag.  I go to a dresser.  I throw some clothes into it.  Evaline, the one that's part of my brain, she looks at me and she starts to ask what I'm doing but the words never come out of her mouth. 

She knows what I'm doing.

I sit down at a table.  Part of me feels that I should write a note to my parents, let them know where I'm going.  The other part of me, it knows that they won't notice that I'm gone.  I've been gone ever since I got here.  I'm a broken down mess.

I’m a broken down mess and while they may notice it, they don't know what to do about it.

I don't bother with a note.

I grab my bag and ask Evaline if she's coming.

‘Do I have a choice?’

And with that we walk out the door.

I don't have a car.

There are no reliable means of transportation. 

So I go to Franklin.

Three knocks and he opens the door.

‘What happened to your fa…’

I push him inside and close the door behind us.  He looks confused. 

‘I'm going to find Evaline, either you come with me or you give me your car.’

And Franklin, he's looking at me with big stupid eyes that betray a confusion that I don't care to explore.  All I want is to get where I need to be.

And Franklin starts to open his mouth.

8

Time passes as if it's going somewhere.  It keeps moving as if there's an end destination.  There isn't.

No change.

No progress.

9

I'm driving Franklin’s car. 

Moving down a city street at a slow pace.  Franklin, he elected to stay at home.  Told me that he wanted the car back by the end of the week.  I have five days. 

Evaline, she's my passenger.

She's my illusion.

She's my purpose.

And I'm driving as if I know where I'm going.  The problem is that I don't.  There is no set path.  I don't know where to start. 

I only know where I want things to end.

And Evaline, she smiles.

And I pull into a gas station. 

The car rolls to a stop and it feels good to be mobile.  It feels good not to be trapped on a bus and faking conversations with strangers as if they had some sort of relevance in my life.

I park.

Kill the engine.

Stare out the window. 

I'm not sure what I'm doing. 

I'd ask for directions if I weren't so aimless.

I'm like a shotgun spraying the canvas of this city until I finally hit some vague semblance of a target. 

And so goes my life.

My chest aches.

I look at Evaline. 

I go to hold her hand as if that will dull the feeling that reminds me of something I never realized I had.  I stop short.  Pause and look down.  Her wrist is frail and she's wearing a bracelet that I bought her for an anniversary that I never truly appreciated.  She always wore that bracelet.

I get out of the car.

Breathe in the air around me.  It fills my lungs and I smile and I walk and pause and look at the car.  I look at Evaline.  She smiles at me.  She waves. 

I walk through the gas station door. 

I hear a chime.

Then things move sideways. 

I'm with Evaline. 

In our old apartment.

We're naked.

10

And someone once told me that love will find a way.

Someone once told me that love wins.

People tell me that love can do a lot of things.

Right now it provides me with a sweaty fuck that makes my eyebrows curl and my jaw ache.

Right now I'm with Evaline.

In our old bed. 

Remembering.

Existing.

And I would say that we're both younger, but youth has no meaning when there is no such thing as ‘old’.

We kiss.

Our lips hover and lock.

My veins feel as if they're tangling with her heartstrings and my hands feel as if they'll never be able to let go of what they think they have.

I whisper.

‘Stay.’

She moans.

She kisses my cheek.

And I wish I could express what this means to me.  The chance to be who I was.  The chance to live what I've already had. 

There are moments in my head where all is lost to hopeless romanticism.  There are moments in my heart where nothing exists but the passion of a love that can only be imagined.

At least these are the things I've told myself in the past.  In the days where I didn't doubt the emotions that I thought existed in my body.

I kiss Evaline.

Her sweat lingers on me.

It isn't real.

It's a memory.

I think it's a memory.

It has to be a memory.

My head is beyond messed up.

And Evaline kisses hard and shoves her tongue deep into me.  Her back arches and her fingers lock and she lets out the smallest of sounds as our love and lust mix up and become confused in the most physical of their representations.

She lays next to me.

We're sweating.

Soaking the bed. 

Both of us breathe heavily as if the oxygen we suck in can somehow replace the pieces of our souls that we give to each other.

She tells me that she loves me.

I open my mouth to tell her the same. 

My eyes are closed.

I suck in the air and the words come out and my eyes open and my hands are on the steering wheel of Franklin’s car and we're somewhere in the city.

I don't know what's going on.

And as the words escape my lips, they start to feel hollow.  The start to feel used and bored.

Imaginary-Evaline, she looks at me and smiles.  She tells me that she loves me back. 

I pull over.

Get out and start to walk as if I know where I'm going.

All I know is that I'm going somewhere.  And my feet start to ache and my body starts to sweat and I realize that I've just walked to our old apartment. 

I sit on the front steps.

I'd say that it brings back memories but all it does is cause me to lose my breath.  I'm tired of remembering.

All that I want is to be. 

Then I realize that Evaline, the imaginary one, she didn't follow me.

And I'm feeling that much lonelier.

11

When you're infinite, you don't think of the future.  Yet, somehow, all you ever manage to do is reminisce about the past.

12

I fell asleep on the stoop where we spent so many good years.  Curled up and aching on the concrete of this city. 

I'm trying to find something, I'm just not sure what it is anymore.

I'm not sure what's compelling me.  I'm not sure why my feet move in the circles that they do.

There aren't many things I'm too sure of at this point. 

And so I'm rubbing sleep out of my eyes. 

I can't see straight.  I can't seem to move in a line that resembles progress.  The present folds into the past and all I can do is experience the cruelty that yesterday provides when shown in the context of today.

There are moments when I believe that she is through with me.