Nightwind’s home

Today I finally saw her. It’s quite ironic … the one time that I really felt no such thing was possible … the one time that I felt that perhaps it would be better if I didn’t meet her, it happened. I took one wrong turn and I was delivered in her path. Surely enough, there she was. The sad smile, the sad eyes, the troubled voice … that very pale beauty which I never ceased to admire. It’s a rare thing to dream about someone and still see that the person before your eyes seems to have descended from those very dreams.

Despite the cold room, I was warm, but not because of all the emotions. Yet I froze, not knowing what to say. What could I say? That she was in my dreams the night before, that I could not sleep because I was torn apart by that feeling that perhaps seeing her was a mistake? But like always I dove in, heart-first, not caring about what might come. And I smiled, a pale and sad smile that was matching her except that hers was also lighting the room a little more.

And then she began talking and I drank her every word. She talked about quite a few things, mixing the things which weighted heavily on her soul with the small troubles of everyday life. Pain. Shoes. Pain. Candy. Pain. My sickness. Pain. Her lips move, shaping words, words describing a state of her soul that I was already familiar with. I listen, I watch her lips move, her hand trembling, but not from the cold. I listen, what else can I do? It’s not the first time I’m hearing of such things, but I have already spoken my mind of the matter. And my heart … for that matter. So I listen … and I cry with her … for her. It’s no different than any other day or any other of our conversations.

If only I could speak directly to her mind … we are connected by something more than the mere bodies facing each other. We are what we create, her images, my words, her words, my images, all of them shaping worlds, describing visions … all these being offered as a token, our needs to make live worth living, with beauty and song and colors. Her colors are now all over my mind. Can we paint a new world then? I wish …

Hours become seconds, our time is too short. I listen. I smile. In my mind, I even take her hand and hold it. Do I have the force I need to break into her world, take the pain away … and offer her the new world she deserves, the world she’s been missing?