A young man probably in his late twenties sat down beside me and started a monologue without regard of embarrassment as if I am a longtime friend he had not seen for years and not like the strangers that we really are. He did not look at me when he split open his heart and shoved it to me.
I wish that she could have loved me… not like how much I adored her but even more — like how the day marries the night without question. I wish that she could have loved me so earnestly enough for her to have created a storm inside my emptiness. I wish that she could have loved me enough for me to burst into an endless symphony of chaos and beauty that made sense and meant nothing altogether. I wish that she could have loved me enough . . .
I guess the only thing I could have done was kept it sealed. I should have sat on it and told the cat to run away. But it was all in good faith. It had writings on it that promised only merry things and And flowing from it was the sweetest scent that lured me to open it.
It was all in good faith and yet all I got were accusations.
Humiliated and used; I was falsely accused. People are great at that I guess. Blaming everything on something, someone, anything.
It was true the horrors that escaped from that jar had changed everything and had given everyone the right to put me on the spiritual garrote. The whispered accusations sealed my fate. The taunts and desolation were enough for Thanatos to walk beside me.
But I went back for it – the jar I mean. They said that something great was trapped inside it. That I had tried to seal the jar in fear and left Elpis inside.
These are all lies.
I went back for it. She wasn’t there. No one was there. No one is. No one will ever be there.