Storyline Exploration 2.
Tears, hot wet salt laden droplets, they slowly roll down over
my cheeks, moving to trail blaze over my flesh and seek freedom when they break
off and fall from my chin to splash almost obscenely on the floor in glee. Like
so many things they seemed to want to get away from me, to complete my
loneliness, leaving me to my sorrows and my shames. Already there was a puddle
gathered apon the floor underneath my head as I remained kneeling, the side of
my face pressed against her cold marble statue. Where else could I turn, she had
always been my only solace , this beautiful creature of marble, some lost
artists personification of an Angel. I had spent so much of my life, holding her
as I did now, pouring out my heart to my marble goddess. As a child I had always
envisioned that she would sometimes stroke my hair, but as I grew older I knew
that couldn't be for she was as always just a thing of marble, no matter how
much my heart and mind wished she were to come alive and hold me. Take away my
fears, calm my aching heart or simply tell me of love and offer me some light in
the dark of life. I was never pointed to for rational thought, growing up the
children around me always teased me and called her my girlfriend, and to them I
would say "So what, least mine's pretty and hasn't broken my heart." Which was
true and remains true for how can one so lovely and of course not living do
anything to harm me. She always offered me quiet peace, and a place to cry,
someone to hold on to when I felt alone and scared.
Sill the tears , those fevered particles of water that flowed
out of my body as I cried fell. time never moved when I was with her, my Angel,
minutes became hours, hours became days and I felt an eternity of peace even
when I was crying or raging about the trials of life and the injustices of the
world, I still felt at peace when I clung to her. My rock, she was, my marble
anchor that kept me from delving into bittersweet madness. My heart, that small
muscle that moved my blood about was broken, I could almost feel the tiny shards
of it digging into the skin, trying to get out away from the dead core of my
body. My soul, my soul already fled me, I knew this and I was left with only a
shell. This shell that wept, that gave it's moisture to the ground here within
the cemetery, no one bothered me here, it was only ever my Angel and me. I
didn't believe in God, I had no strong Christian morals, or even any belief in
the bible and it's teachings. I could care less who ran the universe, for my
world, the world that enclosed my days was dark and their seemed no guiding hand
in any of it. Unless I was meant to suffer and some being greater then I took
torment in my suffering. Again out of some unknown whimsy, as my eyes remained
closed, the hot tears moving in their natural progression down my cheeks and
onward to freedom I felt my hair being soothed." Only the wind, how I wish it
were you my Angel, it's only the wind" I uttered as I choked back a sob, a
broken hearted sound that I poured so many of my wishes to come to be, that her
white marble hand would suddenly come alive and her delicate fingers would
gently glide through my hair.
Even more tears, beckoned out by hushed whimpers and heaving
sobs, the physical river of my emotions moved with the pull of gravity. I wanted
for it to end, for I knew within myself my true desire was a futile thing born
of agony and childish fantasy, and I would finally lay down to rest, die as I
wanted at my Angel's feet, and perhaps then I would go on to her true embrace.
For such an ethereal beauty must reside beyond the tangible and perhaps only
through the veil of death. I shuddered and my arms tightened around her waist,
her marble skin was no longer cold, but felt warm against my tempered flesh, the
heat of my body and broken emotions felt being shared with her lifeless form.
Again I felt that caressing in my hair, and I so wanted to believe it was
happening though I knew it simply couldn't be and my sobs grew. How I ached for
just even the slightest real touch from my Angel, even a small tap apon my pain
filed head would ease so much but I knew it was for naught. I could feel the
knife hilt against me knee, I had left it laying beside me, for I had come there
again to end my life, to try seeing my Angel on the other side. But once I had
arrived there again, looking at her beautifully sculptured face I lost my will
to do it, I couldn't carry out such an act before my Angel, nor more then I
could do it without her. Thus it was the Tears, hot wet salt laden droplets,
began to slowly roll down over my cheeks, moving to trail blaze over my flesh
and seek freedom when they break off and fall from my chin to splash almost
obscenely on the floor in glee.