10-26-2019, 08:27 PM
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<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>( i swore the days were over of courting empty dreams</i></font>
<font color=929292>------------------------------------------</font><font face=times size=4 color=black><i>i worshipped at the altar of losing everything )</i></font></p>
<p align=justify><font color=2f2f2f face=times size=2>
<i>You know who you seek,</i> the ghost says.
His breath hitches and his heart lurches and twists.
The useless heart reorients itself into a different pulse altogether – Kei-ran, Kei-ran, Kei-ran – and there is one quiet moment of stunning realization when it occurs to him that he has never know pain this acute. Because he knows that the ghost is right and that he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for her.
Others begin to gather around them and he recognizes the first face to join them, Agetta, but he does not speak. There is another stark white mare but he is oblivious to the fact that her blood, diluted now, courses through his veins. There is a disorienting weight in the air that makes his head swim and the most he can offer is a tired smile that splinters and fades as his gaze falls heavy on the child. Surrounded by their loss, the pain in the center of his chest compounds until he can barely breathe around it. He swallows thickly and shifts his weight, thinks briefly of the way he’d looked for his own mother, how he’d flung himself at her feet to tell her what he’d done – or hadn’t done. His eyes – dark and brooding – close against the hurt as he draws in a thin, shaky breath.
The ghost speaks again and he forces his eyes open, studies the soft outline of her face. Anticipation builds at the center of him, thumps against his ribs, sets fire to his nerves. His pulse quickens at the thought of being able to visit the beach and have Keiran find him. The idea that he might be able to apologize. And then the useless heart stutters and stops – for just a split second, but what difference does it make when it is not the thing that keeps him alive anyway? His gaze flits between the soft edge of the ghost’s face to the tear and then back again.
He feels absolutely no hesitation. There is nothing to consider, nothing to contemplate. He will go. He will go and he will find her and they will walk side-by-side again. Even if he does not come back, it is a price he is willing to pay. He will gladly give his life to see her again, to apologize, to kiss her head and pull her into a sweet embrace.
The ghost says that she can help through the steps but that he will otherwise be on his own but this does not deter him. He is moving before she’s finished speaking, glancing over his shoulder to leave a whispered “<b>thank you</b>” in his wake. He pays not mind to the others as he steps through the tear. Everything anticipates the feel of the surf crashing against his shins but it does not come.
The heart stops then. But he feels absolutely no sense of panic. He continues to breathe, but only out of habit. He blinks down at the ground and finds that the ocean is gone. He is surrounded instead by desert. The same desert he’d traversed to find her the last time. If the heart still functioned, the pulse would have quickened. Anxiety would have polluted his bloodstream. But he feels nothing but peace as he sets off. He is alone now, thinks that the afterlife must present itself differently to everyone.
He walks but sweat does not gather along his flanks. The breathing does not quicken and the muscles do not tire. He does not know how long he walks but he supposes it doesn’t matter. He turns his gaze to the hills in the distance, studies throngs of horses who move slow across the terrain. The desert begins to give way to lush green and trees gather in clusters. He glances up to study the birds that alight on their branches, singing wildly, uninhibited.
He sees her before she sees him. Standing at the base of some great waterfall, her face turned into the mist. He stops short, swallows his useless breath. The peace he’d felt evaporates and he feels that same great sadness bloom in his chest again. There is something else, too. A warm flood of relief, a happiness he does not deserve.
“<b>Keiran!</b>” he calls. She does not turn and he quickens his pace. The lungs do not burn as he tears across the great swath of land that separates them. “<b>Keiran!</b>” he calls again and despite the peace that loiters in his veins, he can feel panic beginning to spread. Has something gone wrong? Is he stuck behind some kind of veil? Why can he see her but she cannot hear him?
“<b>Keiran!</b>” he cries and desperation cleaves her name clean in two. It is only then that she turns. Her expression, serene, dissolves around sharp surprise. ‘<i>Kensley?</i>’ she says and then frowns, turning to face him. He chokes out something that sounds like a sob or a laugh, sinks to his knees before her before he forces himself to his feet again.
“<b>Keiran,</b>” he says again and staggers across the ribbon of meadow that separates them. He pulls her into a fierce embrace. ‘<i>What’s happened?</i>’ she asks, ‘<i>why are you here?</i>’
It doesn’t matter, he thinks. It doesn’t matter why he’s here, just that he’s here now. He holds onto her, hard and fast. There is no warmth but he can imagine it. He does not realize he’s weeping until he takes one shuffling step back away from her. “<b>Keiran, I’m so sorry,</b>” he says and shakes his head. “<b>I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.</b>”
She studies him with that same frown a long moment before her confusion softens around a smile. ‘<i>Kensley,</i>’ she says and reaches out to press her mouth to the cool plain of his forehead. ‘<i>It’s okay,</i>’ she whispers and his knees tremble with their want to buckle as he drapes his neck over hers, pulls her back into that embrace. He does not deserve her forgiveness, he knows, he does not deserve her mercy. ‘<i>It wasn’t your fault,</i>’ she murmurs and he shakes his head fiercely but he does not let her go.
“<b>I love you,</b>” he tells her, “<b>I miss you.</b>” The things he’d wanted to tell her the last time he’d gone to see her. The things he’d never been able to say to her. The things that had been stolen right out of his mouth by the blood and the violence and the bone-deep fear. And then the rage. And the agony. The absolute devastation he has carried with him ever since.
“<B>I brought something for you,</b>” he says and finally steps away from her again. He roughly shakes his head until the braided hair slips away from the place he’d hidden it. She smiles, exhales a breath of laughter as she nudges it with her muzzle. ‘<i>I’ve looked for her,</i>’ she muses, ‘<i>but I haven’t been able to find her.</i>’
He kisses her head. “<b>She’s alive,</b>” he tells her. And then, with a greater sense of urgency, “<b>I don’t know how much time I have. I just needed you to know that I’m sorry and that I love you and I’m going to carry you with me as long as I live.</b>” <p align=right>
<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>( but you had a halo made of diamonds resting on your head</i></font><font color=929292>----------------------------</font>
<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>i should be dealing with my demons but i'm dodging them instead )</i></font>
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<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>( i swore the days were over of courting empty dreams</i></font>
<font color=929292>------------------------------------------</font><font face=times size=4 color=black><i>i worshipped at the altar of losing everything )</i></font></p>
<p align=justify><font color=2f2f2f face=times size=2>
<i>You know who you seek,</i> the ghost says.
His breath hitches and his heart lurches and twists.
The useless heart reorients itself into a different pulse altogether – Kei-ran, Kei-ran, Kei-ran – and there is one quiet moment of stunning realization when it occurs to him that he has never know pain this acute. Because he knows that the ghost is right and that he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for her.
Others begin to gather around them and he recognizes the first face to join them, Agetta, but he does not speak. There is another stark white mare but he is oblivious to the fact that her blood, diluted now, courses through his veins. There is a disorienting weight in the air that makes his head swim and the most he can offer is a tired smile that splinters and fades as his gaze falls heavy on the child. Surrounded by their loss, the pain in the center of his chest compounds until he can barely breathe around it. He swallows thickly and shifts his weight, thinks briefly of the way he’d looked for his own mother, how he’d flung himself at her feet to tell her what he’d done – or hadn’t done. His eyes – dark and brooding – close against the hurt as he draws in a thin, shaky breath.
The ghost speaks again and he forces his eyes open, studies the soft outline of her face. Anticipation builds at the center of him, thumps against his ribs, sets fire to his nerves. His pulse quickens at the thought of being able to visit the beach and have Keiran find him. The idea that he might be able to apologize. And then the useless heart stutters and stops – for just a split second, but what difference does it make when it is not the thing that keeps him alive anyway? His gaze flits between the soft edge of the ghost’s face to the tear and then back again.
He feels absolutely no hesitation. There is nothing to consider, nothing to contemplate. He will go. He will go and he will find her and they will walk side-by-side again. Even if he does not come back, it is a price he is willing to pay. He will gladly give his life to see her again, to apologize, to kiss her head and pull her into a sweet embrace.
The ghost says that she can help through the steps but that he will otherwise be on his own but this does not deter him. He is moving before she’s finished speaking, glancing over his shoulder to leave a whispered “<b>thank you</b>” in his wake. He pays not mind to the others as he steps through the tear. Everything anticipates the feel of the surf crashing against his shins but it does not come.
The heart stops then. But he feels absolutely no sense of panic. He continues to breathe, but only out of habit. He blinks down at the ground and finds that the ocean is gone. He is surrounded instead by desert. The same desert he’d traversed to find her the last time. If the heart still functioned, the pulse would have quickened. Anxiety would have polluted his bloodstream. But he feels nothing but peace as he sets off. He is alone now, thinks that the afterlife must present itself differently to everyone.
He walks but sweat does not gather along his flanks. The breathing does not quicken and the muscles do not tire. He does not know how long he walks but he supposes it doesn’t matter. He turns his gaze to the hills in the distance, studies throngs of horses who move slow across the terrain. The desert begins to give way to lush green and trees gather in clusters. He glances up to study the birds that alight on their branches, singing wildly, uninhibited.
He sees her before she sees him. Standing at the base of some great waterfall, her face turned into the mist. He stops short, swallows his useless breath. The peace he’d felt evaporates and he feels that same great sadness bloom in his chest again. There is something else, too. A warm flood of relief, a happiness he does not deserve.
“<b>Keiran!</b>” he calls. She does not turn and he quickens his pace. The lungs do not burn as he tears across the great swath of land that separates them. “<b>Keiran!</b>” he calls again and despite the peace that loiters in his veins, he can feel panic beginning to spread. Has something gone wrong? Is he stuck behind some kind of veil? Why can he see her but she cannot hear him?
“<b>Keiran!</b>” he cries and desperation cleaves her name clean in two. It is only then that she turns. Her expression, serene, dissolves around sharp surprise. ‘<i>Kensley?</i>’ she says and then frowns, turning to face him. He chokes out something that sounds like a sob or a laugh, sinks to his knees before her before he forces himself to his feet again.
“<b>Keiran,</b>” he says again and staggers across the ribbon of meadow that separates them. He pulls her into a fierce embrace. ‘<i>What’s happened?</i>’ she asks, ‘<i>why are you here?</i>’
It doesn’t matter, he thinks. It doesn’t matter why he’s here, just that he’s here now. He holds onto her, hard and fast. There is no warmth but he can imagine it. He does not realize he’s weeping until he takes one shuffling step back away from her. “<b>Keiran, I’m so sorry,</b>” he says and shakes his head. “<b>I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.</b>”
She studies him with that same frown a long moment before her confusion softens around a smile. ‘<i>Kensley,</i>’ she says and reaches out to press her mouth to the cool plain of his forehead. ‘<i>It’s okay,</i>’ she whispers and his knees tremble with their want to buckle as he drapes his neck over hers, pulls her back into that embrace. He does not deserve her forgiveness, he knows, he does not deserve her mercy. ‘<i>It wasn’t your fault,</i>’ she murmurs and he shakes his head fiercely but he does not let her go.
“<b>I love you,</b>” he tells her, “<b>I miss you.</b>” The things he’d wanted to tell her the last time he’d gone to see her. The things he’d never been able to say to her. The things that had been stolen right out of his mouth by the blood and the violence and the bone-deep fear. And then the rage. And the agony. The absolute devastation he has carried with him ever since.
“<B>I brought something for you,</b>” he says and finally steps away from her again. He roughly shakes his head until the braided hair slips away from the place he’d hidden it. She smiles, exhales a breath of laughter as she nudges it with her muzzle. ‘<i>I’ve looked for her,</i>’ she muses, ‘<i>but I haven’t been able to find her.</i>’
He kisses her head. “<b>She’s alive,</b>” he tells her. And then, with a greater sense of urgency, “<b>I don’t know how much time I have. I just needed you to know that I’m sorry and that I love you and I’m going to carry you with me as long as I live.</b>” <p align=right>
<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>( but you had a halo made of diamonds resting on your head</i></font><font color=929292>----------------------------</font>
<font face=times size=4 color=black><i>i should be dealing with my demons but i'm dodging them instead )</i></font>
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