Howlyn  KEFTS

Howlyn KEFTS

Username: mindeye

I will never require so much of you ...

Copyright © 2011 Howlyn KEFTS

  I will never require so much of you ...

I woke up this morning, without memories. Who am I? Well, I could not tell. Unable to move, unable to speak a word, I felt trapped in my own body. My motion was limited to the mere lifting of the lids that, once opened, admitted one of the most delightful views to meet my eyes. A wonderful harmony of silver white and blue, green, golden and reddening shades flowed before me. Everything looked amazing but something was definitely wrong. Though I was utterly overwhelmed by this unknown scenery, I could not feel the beat of my heart. I can assure you, that's an eerie feeling.

I thus contemplated the horizon in the early morning. The first beam glistened with all its brightness, reflecting radiantly on the sleeping ocean. Time passed and nothing happened. Apart from the light, nothing moved, nothing changed. Still, time was passing. And so many questions joined in the midst of my mind, so many … but their answers remained a mystery to me. After a while, I was beginning to reach the limits of boredom when a pleasant whistle made its way to my ear in a mild whisper. Accompanied by a sweet breath, it composed a melody that made parts of my being move. I shivered. The whole world was shaking. I closed my eyes for it made me feel slightly dizzy. A moment later, it stopped, as suddenly as it had started. It took me some times to recover but once I could see properly again, I made a figure out in the distance.

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Someone was walking towards me. As the shape was getting closer, I could tell he was a man. It was very likely that if I had been able to feel myself breathing, the sight of him would have wound me. He came to my bed, a sad smile on his face. When he was close enough so that I could see his eyes, I looked deep in the core of the broken soul they mirrored. The tiredness they bore made him sadly beautiful. His impressive gaze rested upon me, affectionate. I could not tell why but his face rang a bell. He remembered me of someone I could unfortunately not remember. Quietly and with cautious gestures, he held out his hand towards me in a gentle stroke. For the first time that morning, I felt something warm, intensely warm. He sighed:

'My dear … I have been waiting for so long.'

This made no sense to me. Not being able to speak was one of the most frustrating things that I was to experience, ever. So many questions would miss their answers. But there I was, only allowed to listen. He knelt beside me and said:

'You must be really thirsty. Let me help you with this."

Slowly, he took all the care to ease my thirst, which had been tormenting me for a while. I appreciated his attention. Then he stayed, staring, and entered a monologue in a soothing voice.

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'Have you ever seen the sun rising in this wonderful place? Well ... have you ever seen it from … the cliff? I have. It's one of the most amazing thing on Earth. It's like being admitted into the intimacy of life itself, even if for many people, it is just meaningless. You see, because for most of them, it's just usual, it's just the way it is supposed to be, the way every morning begins. But I can tell it is a lot more important to you, isn't it?'

Indeed, I had wondered if I would see something that marvelous ever again, if I would always feel a warmth so comfortable as that of the sun beams.

'The morning light suits you. You are so beautiful, so fresh.'

I could not remember what I looked like. Did I ever know?

'But you don't really care for your appearance, do you?'

Indeed, I did not. Then, he began to tell me about his life, about the place where he lived, about his thoughts. He admitted me into the very core of his mind.

'My life is miserable but I am fond of it for it is mine. You know, a lot of people complain about their worries, their problems, their troubles, but among them, how many are really aware of how lucky they are to have a life, whatever kind of life it is? Too few, I am afraid. They are ignorant.'

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A bee alighted on my skin which made my body tremble. He kindly chased it away, in a protective surge.

He depicted the world he knew for me in such astounding details that I felt like an explorer who would have found his new land. And there he was, my new world. He shared with me his contemplation on life and on the world until the setting of the sun drew him to another kind of contemplation. He rose, saying it was high time he'd left. Time had come to part inflicting a pang somewhere near my still heart that I could probably call sadness. He had made my stillness bearable for some times. I would have sighed if I had been able to. In thoughts, I bid him goodnight and thanked him for all his kindness to me. In return, he kissed me, making a shiver of pleasure ran through the whole of my body. A river of warmth started to stream until I almost felt like I had a heart. Afterward, I watched him walking away, powerless. You cannot even imagine how much I wanted him to stay.

The last beam had then disappeared in a red glow and the darkness filled the air, slowly adding blindness to my infirmity. And there I was, only allowed to listen, living a double life in the kingdom of my fancy to escape the boredom of reality. I dreamed that I was a bird, flying freely over the seas until I dived into the icy water and turned into a gracious jellyfish, radiating in a dark universe, somewhat like the sun did in ours. I was exploring the wonderful areas he had depicted, full of colors and amazing feelings.

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I could not name all the things that surrounded me but there were other animals and beings of different shapes, as motionless as I was, that were dancing gracefully to the rocking of water.

Until the sunrise, every nights, I would retire to the realm of my fantasies. Every morning I would marvel at the miraculous sight given by the first beam of light. And every day, I would long to see the man coming, to receive his cares, to hear his voice. He would feed me and give me water and then, spent hours describing a world I was unfortunately deprived of, a world that bore good and evil sides, a world in which he suffered to live. Sometimes, he would remain silent, composing some amazing pieces of writing that, once done, he would read to me with the most pleasant voice. There was not a day when he did not stroke and kiss me, each touch being like a warm breath brought into my lungs that would make me quiver. Yet, each day, I wished more firmly that I could be as free as he was, sometimes to the point of being jealous and despising him for all that he had and that I lacked. I was bond to him in a scary way, thinking that my existence itself depended on him. And he was by no means bond to care for me. He was free and I was a flightless bird. He could just have given me up, but never did until that day: he said it was high time he'd get away for, by dint of staying with me all day long, he was forgetting to live his own life and soon, he would have nothing left to tell me about.

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But I did not fully realize what it meant. Of course, I knew that something was different in his goodbye but I could not imagine what was going to happen. The following morning, I waited eagerly for the bright sun to warm my powerless body. That morning, the sun rose as it did everyday but it had lost most of its brightness. Instead, a pale darkness invaded the sky turning the sparkles of water into a black turmoil. The waves were raging. I could hear them roaring against the rocks. Suddenly, a piercing whistle assailed my ears with blows so violent that it made the whole world shaking in a harsh whirl. It made my head spinning so badly that I had to close my eyes. In a wasted attempt to retire to my own realm, I tried to shut myself from the world, waiting for my man to come and relieve me. I thus waited, in vain, until I finally decided to give up my desperate effort to forget my misfortune. I just let myself go with the flow and let the sore sick feeling overwhelm me. Surely, he would have to come back and I decided to dive into a deep state of dereliction to make him face the consequences of his carelessness. I wanted him to see how ruined and crippled I looked since he had decided to ignore me that day. If I could have make myself look even worse, I would have done so.

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I was so obsessed with the idea of making him feel guilty that the following morning, I forgot to wonder over the rising of the sun. After a never-ending anticipation, I perceived the man coming. His reaction was beyond anything I had dreamed of. When he saw me, anxiety filled his eyes and I could tell it deeply moved him. Silent tears started to flow. One of them fall upon me, electrifying my weak body. I could not tell if the feel of it was pleasing or not. Knelt beside me, he began to feed me and gave me water. I am ashamed to admit it, but I rejoiced: my weakness was sufficient to keep him with me, and it was all I wanted.
"I am so sorry for having being away from you yesterday. There was something important I needed to do and, as I told you, spending my days with you takes my life away, though these moments are delightful. But I see that, for your well being, I cannot be away." He sighed and sat by my side, silently weeping, entertaining me until the sun set to my utmost pleasure. Things were thus as they had always been. I would feel his stroke and his lips and I would feel alive. That was all I wanted. The more time he spent with me, the more I wanted him to stay. Things were thus as they had always been but from time to time, he would look concerned:

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"My dearest, I know how lucky I am to have a life. However, I am not happy. Taking care of you is something I feel responsible for and, though I am glad to do it, I wish I could live my own life as well. I wish you had wings so that you would fly away. I wish you could understand that I need to live as well as you need to, as well as I need you. Will you not try?"

As soon as I heard that kind of speech, I would let my body wither, making no effort, no attempt qat keeping myself in a healthy state. As I depended on his assistance, he could do nothing but spend more time to provide me with cares. Just in case.

One day though, something changed. The sun was rising, as it did everyday, but I knew that, from then on, things would never be the same anymore. Something had happened. Something that I considered to be wonderful. A miracle. The dew that used to cover everything had turned into a thin white dust. That morning, my man arrived earlier than usual and wept for a long, long time. This made no sense to me. The scenery was amazingly pleasant and I wondered why it moved him so much. He kissed me a different kiss, longer, even more tender, before whispering:

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'My heart is going to burst. If you had wings you would fly away.'

Then he just remained knelt, beside me, never taking his hand off me, and stared, stared a long time at me, as if he wanted to stamp my image deep in his mind. The whole day he wept and tried to bring some warmth to my weak body. When the sun started to disappear, I prepared myself to part with him. But he never rose. He said:

'It's easier to dream about what we are never to touch anymore.'

This made no sense to me at all but it scared me. The darkness started to fill the whole world, gently. A shower of white meteor was shining in the moonlight, the white dust alighting lightly on the world. And my man stayed, he stayed the whole night, his hands around me, trying to keep me warm. I dived into his eyes, trying to understand what was happening. And so did I. In the movement of his pupils, I saw his consciousness streaming out. The more he was trying to breathe life into me, the more life was breathing out of him. I was watching him breathing for the last time. One last sigh and his body relaxed, his eyes went blank and I could see my own image for the first time. My own blood froze. I was only a selfish rose.

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… because between falling and failing in love, the border does not amount to very much, save for a mere letter.

The lover will remember the romance 


The Rose and the Gardener.

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