By
Natalie James
I tossed the letter back in its box. I looked at it lying there, as if it had been forgotten for years. It had, until just now when I had read it for the first time. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I was tired of feeling alone, but somehow I didn’t know any other way to feel. When did the demons show their heads? Where did it begin? I had no idea. Well, I had some ideas, but I knew they were only scapegoats.
Everyone always told me how I was “gifted”. That’s what they called it, “gifted”. It has been a gift. Many times it has been a gift. I would not be who I was without this gift. Somehow, though, it has always been just as much of a curse. I saw the world earlier than I was supposed to, I think. The ugliness was too much for me to bear when I had lived in a perfect world my entire life. I missed that world.
I missed that world, my home, with a
fire I could never escape. The beauty, the light, the love, lived in me as it
always has. I remember back, it was so long ago, but I remember it like it was
yesterday. It was heaven. To this day I can still smell the life. I was young,
just a baby, really; but I remember everything. It was all so beautiful, so
painless. I remember how things looked. They looked so big and mysterious. I
would explore them with my Friend and make places for myself.
A
lot of times when I’m feeling bitter I will tell you that I’ve always been
alone, that I’ve never had any true friends. That is not the truth. I never had
any true human friends, but I know that in my early childhood there was someone
there with me. I remember what his presence felt like. I never feared anything
because he was always there. He was light, I think. He was pure light. He
followed behind me and sat with me in my places, pointing out little wonders
for my young eyes to explore. Any normal person would say that he was an
imaginary friend, but I know he was real.
I
think I left him behind when I left that world. Sometimes I think I would give
anything to go back. But I know I can never go back, and I know I must stay
here. Still, I look at the letters, and a pain stronger than all the others
swells within me. I can stand it no longer, and I break down crying over the
stack of yellowed paper.
When
I finally pick myself up and trudge back downstairs to the world again, I look
around me at all the things in the room, and think about how long they’ve been
here. Some have been here longer than I will ever exist. It doesn’t seem fair
that a chair can survive 500 years in this world, but humans have a short life
span and turn to dust within weeks of their death. Someday I will be dust, and
that chair will probably still sit here, in this room, outliving all of its
owners.
There
is nothing I can do about it. That’s what I have to say to myself to keep from
going crazy. There are some things I can. Lord, give me the serenity to deal
with that which I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the
wisdom to know the difference. Such a nice little saying. It’s very true. I
can’t go back to that painless world. I have to survive in this one.
Remembering
my old world makes me sad because it seems far too much as though the little
girl who was once me is dead. She is dead and buried, never to dance and sing
again. That is evil. To kill a mockingbird is evil. I feel lost when I think of
my past. I wish I knew my way home.
My
pain will always be with me. Somehow it is a comfort. It is so familiar that it
seems like an old friend. It makes me hard and strong. Strong is what I want to
be, strong and comforting to others. My pain a part of me, it is a cross I
bear. I do not know what my crime was, nor do I know the reason I was punished.
But I know there is a cross on my heart, and I know it will always be there.
Gnawing
loneliness is what I feel. Constant loneliness eats slowly on my heart. The
pain of the loneliness seeps through my veins like heroine, acid washing the
walls into hard silver. It forms a protective shield against the outside
elements. The loneliness has been there ever since I left my world, but it is
quieted a bit when I look at the stars, or feel the ocean breeze on my face, or
hear the life in trees. The little wonders of nature that keep me sane.
I
have a lot to give to this world, but I must make myself stronger before I do.
I work everyday to strengthen my soul in a way that will stay with me always,
so that I will not crumble when I’m tested. I must use the pain to my
advantage, to make me hard against the woes of the world that surrounds me.
When I accomplish this, I can work on righting the wrongs that are destroying
others.
I
know what I want to do, and I know how I must do it. My obstacle is to become
the being I wish to be. I want to be strong. I want to be an angel of mercy, a
light in the dark, a moral, intelligent, strong-willed selfless person. I want
to be what I can. And I want to love.
If I
only had one goal, it would be to love as much as I could. I want to love those
who hurt me. I want to love those who are hurting. I want to love those who
have never seen love. I know that this alone will give me even more pain, but
it is what I wish to do. Now all I have to do is do it.
Epilogue
A
lonely soul sits silently, mourning the loss of its past self. If this soul
could become again what it once was, would it be complete? If this soul could
understand the reason of the pain, could it learn to live with it? The soul
sits quietly and nests inside of itself, holding its crying heart and drying
its tears. It speaks to itself like a mother to a child, kissing the pain away
and revealing wonderful truths.
The girl is not dead; she
lives inside of you. You have locked her away, afraid to expose her to evil.
Release her and she will dance her dance of light around the shadows you fear,
a strand of her sunlight hair holding more power than the dark creatures you
have so vainly tried to protect her from. You and her can merge into one,
becoming your full self again, and the loneliness will disappear when He
returns with her.
The soul returns to its body, knowing now that it can heal, but that it will take time and effort. The only thing it needs is to keep its goal in mind: to love again.
By Natalie James
“I don’t want to do it. I can’t do
it.”
“Why not?” she asked laughingly.
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes it is. It’s my answer.”
“Fine, if you want to be impossible.”
She always hated it when I was
enigmatic. Not that I could blame her. I can see how it would be irritating,
but I simply didn’t enjoy discussing my feelings, which she had learned by now.
I went upstairs silently, closed the door, and looked outside. Snow was falling
in heavy flakes. They conjured memories of childhood, and a longing of
loneliness that was familiar this time of year.
I gazed out the window, tears rolling
slowly down my cheek. They were the only caress I had to console me. And why
is that? I ask myself, Is it because I keep everything an arm’s length
away, afraid of being hurt even more? I know that’s why I’m alone. It’s why
I’ve always been alone. And now I have Roger at my fingertips, the love I’ve
wanted my entire life, so why do I still feel alone?
Because it’s the only thing I have
left. Because if I give my heart away, there won’t be anything left for me to
hold on to. I’ll just be at the mercy of Roger. Actually, at the moment, it
didn’t sound too bad. I smiled to myself. Roger was so perfect. Sometimes I felt
like I didn’t deserve him. He was so… good to me. I felt like I didn’t deserve
to be treated that way.
I reached into my pocket and took out
a small wax heart. I had crafted it one night while waiting for him in a
restaurant. I had dipping my fingers in the hot wax and molded the small heart
while the wax was still soft and warm. It had grown bigger and bigger as I
waited, and I had vowed to give it to him when he finally showed up. I didn’t,
of course. He had come in, apologizing profusely for being about three minutes
late. I had arrived early, as usual, anxious to see him. He had sat down and
smiled at me, and I hid the heart in my purse.
I put it back, not wanting to look at
it anymore, but comforted by the fact that it was still here with me. I let
myself float back on the mists of time, recalling memories of years past. I had
always been alone. There were many happy times, but I had always been alone, so
it seemed. I liked being alone, really. It gave me time to myself.
But still, the nagging feeling was
there. I didn’t want to be alone.
I raised my head as I felt a presence
behind me. Roger placed his hands on my shoulders softly and kissed the base of
my neck.
“I know.” He said.
I fell into him, body and soul. “I
love you,” I whispered.
“I know.” He said softly.
I placed the small wax heart in his
hand.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said
quietly. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you to trust me, to give your heart
to me.”
I looked at the floor.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I understand.”
He studied the wax heart carefully, then recognition came to his face. “I know
what this is. You made it one night, when we went out to eat.”
I was confused, I could have sworn
that he had never seen it… I had never told him… “I was sure I put it away
before you could see it… how do you know that?”
He
smiled sheepishly. “I um… I got there earlier than you thought I did. I started
to come over to you, but you didn’t see me, and you looked so beautiful that I
just froze, I couldn’t move. I just stood there and watched you, fiddling with
the candle and the napkins and looking around, and your every move just seemed
to hold me there. I finally realized what a dope I was and that you were
looking all anxious because of me. I would have told you before, but I was
embarrassed.” He looked down at the heart again and I melted inside. I loved
him so much at that moment I was sure I was going to die right then and there.
“You know what,” he said, “you’ve
given me something, I think should give you something too.”
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that, I
don’t want anything.”
“Please, I’ve wanted to give you this
for a long time now.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small blue
velvet box. He looked me in the eye and smiled nervously, then opened it. The
ring sparkled back at me, almost as vibrant as his eyes. He put on his best
puppy dog face and said pleadingly, “Put up with me for the rest of your life?”
I laughed as tears of joy filled my eyes.
“What a romantic way to phrase it!”
“Sorry. Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I sputtered have crying, half
laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” I sank into his eyes once more, and we watched
the snow fall in the glow of the Christmas lights. Downstairs we could hear the
others starting to sing carols, and I knew I’d never be alone again.