How did I manage to alienate you so much?

And that one sentence just refuses to leave me alone. “How did I manage to alienate you so much”?

She was lying there, on her elbow, and he was staring at the roof, but every piece of this thoughts was directed at her. She heard the question.

She kissed him. He kissed her back, hoping he’d find an answer in that kiss.

They’d been on his bed for a while now. He wanted her. He wanted her back.

There was something off this time. Of course the mere sight of him made her want to pull his head and be lost in him. It was gone. That emotion or the host of feelings she associated with him were not the same. Like a river that dries up to pick up a new course, her awareness of him was declining.

Was it before this time or after, that she’d had the nightmares? It was reality, vivid reality in her head, and he didn’t know it, but even there he had lost the ability to save her.

She felt a bit like Annie, half responding to his touches, half out of it. But wait no, things were more amiss than she’d predicted they’d be, so fast.

She was leaving her. She was leaving that girl behind.

People, there’s a certain solace she found in people. Trying to understand herself through other expressions of this universe’s consciousness. Sometimes you get too attached, and it makes everything go haywire. Because everything breaks. Nothing is eternal. Only nothing is eternal.

And when you sever connections with people, its never smooth. They always happen with a serrated edge.

And that’s why rejection is easier than acceptance.

She was in his arms, there and not there. She could see her, could feel her. She could feel the tender misery pulsing in her, only she couldn’t relate to it. It didn’t belong to her anymore. It belonged to her, and she was gone.

She lay on the bed, by his side, her head on his shoulder, eyes closed, blissfully blank. And she heard it again.

“How did I manage to alienate you so much?”

She smiled, a smile waiting to be christened by tears that wouldn’t come, tears that she took away with her. No escape. But how could she provide him with the key when she didn’t have it.

Try. Lets try.

“You changed, I changed”, and she’s thinking this is vague, muddy. And vagueness and voids she had in plenty. So much that they were in her concretely, as surely as she was with him, they were with her. There was only one figment of clarity, a door out that she had longed for, but did not have the courage to approach.

How foolish of her to think it would be smooth. Serrated edges, pain, bruises that refuse to not glint at you.

More more and more. That’s what she wants. And now that she’s walked out the door, its every bit as tedious, every bit of a strife she thought it would be. Devils Snares, she sees them everywhere. And that’s when you close up, because it suffocates you, thriving on your weakness, your susceptibility. So you stop feeling. Remember, always remember that suffocation.

So she doesn’t even try to feel now, she only looks, with the wariest of eyes.

Its her time to delve into life, to stay away from herself, to look at her self from a distance. And she’s out exploring. Its a rough terrain. Its a single sail in a storm. And she’s thinking and wishing for the storm to last forever. Because when it ends, it will either bring out the treasures she’s been seeking, or a cold clarity negating her expectations, negating her, turning life virulent.

There’s no way into her. Now there’s no way in. Maybe she doesn’t want one. Because it might never be worth this rush of non-dependence. Copyright @Adya Vac, 2014