fizzlemawizzle

[fizzlemawizzle]

regret

I push you away every time I am angry, furious, whenever I feel slighted by you. I don't want to see you, my quiet fury simmering inside me, filling me to the point I need to explode through this skin barely holding me together, this thin membrane searing the air around me as it is set alight, the matches neatly lined up underneath struck one by one.

As my nightly routine of staring at the ceiling commences, I am reminded that you have stayed through my furies, my insecurities; you have fought the demons in my mind and triumphed over them, holding me steady as we stand over the vast plains left behind. I have given you my crown and my lands, my kingdom for your sword.

And I regret every instance I have pushed you away, because you always come back.

[fizzlemawizzle]

melancholia

She is a ghost that haunts me. She appears when you are gone, standing beside me, her arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to her ice-cold breast. She sits behind me, humming her siren song and breathing sweet and rancid into my ear as she whispers melancholia into me. She takes the empty side of the bed, reaching out to cover every corner - both of the bed and of me. 

She infiltrates my mind, cradling it in her frozen arms. She makes me dream - dreams of emptiness, of a lasting void where she waits with an inviting embrace. She sets her longing gaze on me, stroking my face with a single frigid finger, trailing down and slowly pushing into my chest where her bitter nail meets my heart.

What she does not know is that my dreams are filled with you. In the waking moments in her dreamscape, through the cracks in the light, I see your face. 

What she does not know is that the love I carry for you has made my heart a fortress, her frozen nail cracking against its impenetrable walls. 

What she does not know is that the floodgates have opened, and she will be washed away into the deepest recesses of the void while your waves bear me safely to shore. 

She does not know that she is merely melancholia, and she will come to pass.

[fizzlemawizzle]

stupid

It’s really so stupid - it’s such a small thing; watching someone do a little hop over a wheel stop in a carpark and looking at each other and just knowing, just knowing, that we would do the same thing together at the same time; and there’s a bolt from a corner of my mind, flashing, arcing, spreading its roots into every crevice and fold, lighting up the darkest spaces with a single thought that echoes throughout every nerve in me: i love you

[fizzlemawizzle]

whisper

i whisper i love you into your chest and you whisper love you too back and do you know that is all i need in this world?

[fizzlemawizzle]

game

In this game for two, we each give up parts of ourselves to the other, take parts of the other into ourselves, trying to fill the lack that constantly claws at our bodies. 

We don’t keep track of who’s winning and who’s losing - we both win and lose all the time, always giving in and taking on, equals in this back and forth of love. We volley our feelings, gamble with our futures, we spit fire and keep the embers burning , prolong the game to its inevitable end when it is our time to return to the universe. When this happens, we have no way of knowing - we just continue this game without score.

But this I know, and I knew it long ago: I already lost from the moment I told you I loved you first. I knew I wasn’t whole, and you filled that part of me that desperately craved the touch of someone who cared, of someone who would understand me better than I knew myself, of someone who would hold me when the dams burst and sent forth wave after wave of uncontrollable emotions, and would whisper in my ear the words I needed to hear to be myself again. 

For you I would lose, over and over, ruin myself again and again, hand you the crown and the keys to my kingdom to be yours to burn, if it meant being able to have you by my side. 

[fizzlemawizzle]

name

Two syllables – an exhalation of breath followed by a resistance as the mouth realises its betrayal and issues forth a guttural growl in a feeble attempt to stop the life-breath from escaping further, the tongue soaring to the roof of the mouth, damming it up, preserving whatever little is left of a name in its iron embrace but still releasing enough for you to know that you have lost just a little bit more of yourself in the utterance of his name.

[fizzlemawizzle]

yearn

this pale ache of yearning - for your touch, for your presence to flower the wasteland in me, to fill the emptiness left behind every Saturday night when you leave. To untangle my nerves, to calm my bursting heart the way only you know how 

I chase this yearning, a succumbing to an addiction, hang on to it with the emptiness in me, keenly aware of it spreading its tendrils all around me, all in order to feel it fade away with the first touch of your embrace

nothing is right without you

[fizzlemawizzle]

parting

The Bard immortalised, through Juliet’s lips, the sweetly sorrowful act of parting.

As it is, the bed remains unmade, an imprint of you still in its sheets, the pillows askew. Light shimmery outlines of perfume remind me where you lay those few hours ago, our heads touching as we laughed. 

I bury my face in the sheets, breathe you in, imagine you’re still here with me, your perfume drawing out melancholic memories, silent recitations from my mouth as I lay alone in the world that, just for a few moments, was ours and ours alone.

[fizzlemawizzle]

skin

His skin hungered for his in a way that eclipsed the sun, a tide of desire building in an ocean of longing.

A finger drawing a river into flesh, tracing a map of desire across a scroll of a body. Every ridge of a fingerprint generously stroking his palm, ten fingers entwining his own, dividing and sealing at the same points. Every touch pulling forth a sigh, an exhalation expressing the inexpressible yearning of a lover’s desperation. 

With every touch came a shiver, a chill running up the mountainous spine, navigating the vertebraic hills and valleys, burning his nerves, setting himself alight with a cold fire. Every electric impulse left behind a smouldering ember, lingering smoke signals of hazy desires. Every brush kept him still, breath held, for fear of immolation from the flames scorching the insides of his skin - even the smallest movement risked relinquishing any semblance of control he clung onto, risked an eruption into the fire threatening to consume him.

A sea of liquid fire ran beneath, spreading throughout his body; armour of a rising phoenix in the guise of a man - but useless against the conquering armies of hunger unleashed within from the idle tracing of unknown names. 

He drew in a breath, and all was lost. His fortress conquered, his kingdom come undone. He let himself sink beneath the waves, eyes closed into a tender embrace, skin to skin to skin to skin.

[fizzlemawizzle]

route

Remember this route well. It takes you home.

When you exit the lift on the first floor, turn diagonally 45 degrees and head for the temple. Check the mirror at the carpark exit so you can see if there are people coming around the corner, in case you bump into them. Follow the path one two three four seven drain covers until you come to your usual crossing point opposite the hump in the road. 

Look to the right for any oncoming vehicles, then cross the road. Remember to set your right foot down form the pavement first so your knee doesn’t hurt too much. Once you reach the divider, stop and look to your left for more vehicles, then make your way to the pavement on the other side of the road. 

Follow the pavement past your secondary school, making way for other people walking in the opposite direction. On reaching the pedestrian crossing, press the button and count the seconds before the lights turn in your favour. 

Cross the road, and once you reach the halfway mark veer to your right so you can cut a corner and shorten the distance to the pavement. Move to the shade of the trees next to the other school to hide from the sun, and walk to the bus stop. 

Now, wait for the bus that will take you most of the way home. Once it comes, board it and make your way to the back, where you will take a seat on the right side of the bus. The left side is in the path of the sun this time of day, and shadows of the trees lining the road will annoy you. Make yourself comfortable; adjust the air-conditioning vents. 

The bus will take you far from where you are, through long, wide roads; through underpasses and over expressways. It is a long - but simple - journey, and you are free to count down the minutes and seconds to reach home.

Before you know it, it is time to get off. The bus stop is near a train station, and you make your way to the platform that will take you 3 stops away to where you need to be. The train will arrive, and you will get on and stand by the side of the door. 

One two three stops later, you exit and take the escalator up. This is a huge station, and you take the correct exit at the furthermost right side. Outside, the warm breath of the world will greet you, and you turn left down a few steps into a familiar neighbourhood. You walk under the blocks, hidden in the cool shade as you make your way home. 

Past the tuition centre advertising classrooms for rent and the cool air-conditioning leaking from their door, there is a large multi-purpose hall on the right. You walk past it and down onto the road, and you look up at the block straight ahead. One two three four nine storeys up is where home is. 

You finally reach the void deck, and you make yourself comfortable at the table below. You sit on the furthermost bench, because that gives you a good view of home. You patiently wait to be home.

You look up, see him come around the corner, approaching the table. You’re finally home.

[fizzlemawizzle]

unravel

I’m startled awake by a strange sensation in my chest, like my heart is trying to beat right into my ribcage. I take a few breaths and wipe my brow, taking away the thin sheen of sweat that has already coated my pillows. It feels like my heart is getting looser - for lack of a better way to describe it - and for a moment I’m sure I’m going to die of a heart attack.

I quickly turn the table lamp on and walk to the door, wanting to turn the ceiling light on and get dressed. My phone is in my hand as well, ready to call an ambulance to take me - or my dead body - to the hospital. As I move to pull on my shirt, there’s more movement in my chest, like a million tiny threads are fighting each other to escape the bars of my ribs. I struggle to get my right hand through the sleeve hole, and while I do that I catch a glimpse of my bare chest in the mirror.

For a moment I freeze, one arm halfway through a sleeve hole. I stare at my reflection, and I know I’m dreaming. I have to be. There’s no way what I’m seeing is real.

There is a little oval shaped door on my chest, right over where my heart would be. To borrow an oft-used phrase - it was straight out of a fairytale. You know the kind set into trees that lead to magical kingdoms of fairies and magic and all that crap? Exactly like that, dark wooden framework and all. Two knobs finish off the double doors, in a shiny satiny finish. Wherever the door came from, it was made with the utmost care.

I was still standing in that awkward pose. Abandoning my attempt to put my shirt on, I let it fall to the floor and raised my trembling fingers up to the door. I let my fingertips brush over it - fuck, it’s really there. I pinch my other arm - it’s used so often I had to try it - and I frowned as I felt pain.

Fuck. This is real.

What the fuck was this? I wasn’t dreaming, clearly. I put my fingers to the door again - the doorknobs were warm to the touch. I gently gripped one of the knobs - the door was gently pulsating, almost vibrating in its frame, and I pulled.

The doors burst open, and out came what looked like a singular red thread. It poked out almost tentatively, like it was observing its surroundings. I put my finger close to it and it recoiled a bit, as though it were afraid of me. I looked on, equally fascinated and terrified, as it gently coiled itself around my finger. I moved my finger, coiled with this strange red thread, into the doorway and tried to get it off inside.

My finger brushed against something that had no business being inside a live person’s chest, and I froze for the second time. It felt like a writhing mass, individual tendrils moving over each other, but pulsating to the rhythm of what used to be my heartbeat. I drew my finger out, still coiled with whatever it was that had made a home in my chest, and found it dripping with blood. I look in the mirror and think, help me, my heart is unravelling, it is coming undone.

The first thread, tendril, vein, whatever it was loosened and started moving around me, past me, out of my room. I try to grab it and force it back in, but it evades my fingers easily, effortlessly. As it moves, it traces its path on the floor with drops of blood, and as I look closer to whatever it is that’s coming out of the door on my chest, it looks like a vein, an artery - red, sinewy tendrils that are slowly unspooling what is left of my heart.

I dash out after it - it has started gaining speed and is rushing out of my chest door. I get to the front door, expecting it to be gathering in a mass on the floor, stopped by the mighty slab of wood and metal. It just seems to unspool faster and faster, and as I flick the light switch on I see that it has gone under the space between the door and the floor, and it has probably done the same for the metal door. Shit, I think, as I yank the doors open as quickly as I can to follow.

As I step outside of the house, it occurs to me that I didn’t try closing the doors on my chest. I mentally facepalm and immediately force the doors closed with my fingers - only to see them burst open again. I try, repeatedly, to get them closed - and they simply refuse. Whatever remains of my heart will not be contained within me. I run after my heart, leaving several pools of blood behind me as I follow the trail laid out in front of me.

As I run, I think to myself - I am pouring my heart out to someone - and I laugh, because the mere thought of it is so ridiculous, it’s such a cliched saying. But I don’t convince myself, and my chief concern is to find the beginning of the tendril so I can try to piece my scattered heart back together.

I can feel my chest becoming an empty cavity - I am still breathing, panting even, the doors swinging in the frame as I follow the bloody path in front of me. The never-ending length of dripping, bleeding yarn stretches into the distance, and all I can do is follow it. I vaguely ponder the aftermath of people finding the trail when they wake up, then get back to worrying about my rapidly emptying ribs.

I run for what seems like hours - through forests, buildings, over hills, cliffs and mountains, climbing and scraping my knees and hands, adding to the blood that is all over me. I reach for the next hand hold in the rock of a cliff face, jump over fallen trees, wade through rivers and streams, all the while what remains of my unspooling heart beats out what I fear will be its dying beat.

I push myself up a rock wall, the next in the wake of uncountable ones, and I am greeted with what feels like an endless expanse of land overlooking an equally endless expanse of sea. I can hear the waves crashing against rocks I cannot see, clawing their way into the shoreline. I look down at the door, and I can see that for the first time in the night my heart has slowed its escape from myself, drooping as it slowly vacates its previous home. I look up in the direction it leads to, and I see it snaking its way to the edge of the cliff where you are standing, facing the sea.

I struggle unsteadily to my feet. I suppose the journey here in the eternity of the night had taken its toll on me - I didn’t even realise I was on my knees in the long grass. I make my way to you, through the gently swaying grass, looking warily around for something I’m not entirely sure of. I am finally about ten steps from you, and I see that you seem to be holding something in your hands in front of you. I stand there for another eternity, just staring at your back, as I see the last vestiges of what used to be my heart finally make its way out from me, leaving the double doors fluttering gently in the wind. You straighten up, and slowly turn around. I hold my breath while I wonder how I am still alive in the absence of a beating heart, and I look straight into your face as you turn to fully face me. The strange familiarity of the lines, edges, and curves of your face strike me bluntly - I know you.

Your hands hold a pair of long, thin instruments - my mind jumps to knitting needles and I think I’m going crazy. Then I see that they are, in fact, knitting needles, and I think, for what seems like the umpteenth time, I’m going crazy. You knit, and knit, and knit, and finally you drop the bloodied needles to the ground. You are holding - cradling - what looks like a beating heart, bleeding in your hands as it beats out a rhythm of life - of my life.

We each take a tentative step towards each other, unsure as to the unfamiliar familiarity of each other. Another step, then another, and we are finally standing in front of each other. A sight to behold - an open wooden door carved out of a bloody chest, a pair of hands gently cradling a still beating heart spilling blood all over the ground. Shifting the weight of my heart to one hand, you bring the other up and place it on the doors, momentarily closing them. I tense at your touch, this strange, knowing touch that I have felt before, eons before, when the path of the sun was still being charted and the stars were gods sleeping among the clouds. Releasing your palm from it, you open the doors and carefully, with the gentlest of movements, push my beating heart back into me, closing the doors and pressing on them with both your hands this time. When you let go, the door has disappeared, leaving my bare chest in its stead with not even a scar to show that it had been there for the night. I gasp as I feel a renewed vigour in my chest, a beating that was put there by you, for you have weaved my heart whole again, weaved me whole again, because I never knew my heart was ever missing its most vital component. It was a shadow heart, beating for survival, ensuring I lived on, but never for more than that. My heart, my knitted, completed heart, has your touch in its every beat, its every pulse, its every pump pushing every droplet of life coursing through my veins and arteries - in me.

[fizzlemawizzle]

transiency

The seasons change. Leaves fall, trees bare themselves. The years pass us by, leaving only traces of what used to be in their wake. Everything around me is transient, a constant refrain that nothing is permanent. Round and round we go, just another ring around a tree, the next orbit around the sun.

Nothing is forever, and forever is nothing. The only constant is you beside me. All roads lead to you, all paths circle back. 

You are Rome, a fortress of my love My tether to the ground,  my sweeper of clouds;  my weaver of dreams,  my architect of castles.

[fizzlemawizzle]

[blank]

What I would do To make you feel the way I do I give you all of me My hands, my heart, my body

My skin covering all of me Your every touch a fine scalpel Make an incision Cut it and peel it off Layer by layer by layer Strips of flayed incandescence shining In the moonlight My flesh glowing beneath

My weaknesses I give to you My wrists shining, gleaming Calling for an intrusion into the flesh Cut my wrists and you have a fountain Blood gushing in serpentine tendrils Snaking to the ground, a network Of doppelgänger veins and arteries Undulating rivers Slowly, surely, determinedly Forming a copy Hissing, slithering, scaling Painting me into being again

Stroke my neck with your blade Caress my jugular Release the flood hiding behind Let me burst through the walls Paint them anew

Press your fingers against my chest Feel my ribs Spread them, blooming flowers in the moonlight My heart pulsing against your palms Pressing against you Yearning for the salvation of a love too full To be contained in a mere chest Pull it out Feel each artery straining against your love Each vein vainly holding on to solitude Valiantly failing, ripped away and falling Back into the empty cavity of my chest Hold my bleeding heart Feel its last gasps Clinging on to the last dredges of me Before it draws life from you

All of myself I give to you And I ask for little in return A gaze, a caress, a generous stroke of the palm For you are the answer to the eternal question of myself All of myself is all of yours But the second question lurking in the dark Biding its time, waiting to pull my heart back from you Though I yearn to make you feel the way I feel I know it is something that cannot be It reaches out Talons shining in the moonlight Gazing and asking Is all of me enough For all of you?

[fizzlemawizzle]

weddings

“Okay, we’ve got everything ready for the rehearsal. Are we good to go?”

I looked at the groom, waiting for his signal. It was - as they say - his party.

“Yup, let’s start. I’ll go get her.”

He started off, pushing the hall doors open in search of his bride. I walked up the three steps to the stage and took my place behind the podium. I took out my script from my battered file and arranged them in order, scanning them once over and making sure they made sense.

I looked out to the empty hall, all 20 tables waiting to be filled in barely an hour’s time. Empty plates and empty glasses, among empty chairs and tables.

“Okay, soundman get ready, emcee get ready, lights down!”

I took a deep breath as the lights in the hall went off - only the dim light from the podium illuminating my script in the darkness.

I begin reciting my lines, glancing down at the script very now and then. I have to squint at the papers occasionally, my poor eyesight not helped by the lack of lights.

“…and let’s welcome the bride and groom!”

The bridal march starts playing and a spotlight comes on, cutting through the darkness to light up the doors at the end of the hall. On cue, the banquet manager opens the doors and beckons them in. The bride and groom walk down the literal red carpet, waving and smiling at make-believe people, the spotlight following their every step.

I smile as they make their way to the stage. The groom makes eye contact with me and waves. I do a small two-fingered salute back and watch as they continue down the way.

The music changes, and the bride and groom are no longer the bride and groom, but you and I. Matching suits, even matching shoes, fingers interlocked as we take our first walk down the aisle. You twirl me out as we dance along the carpet, a dance made in the heavens to show the world what love really means, as you pull me into your arms again and again until we reach the steps at the foot of the stage and the bride and groom make their way up towards the large cake standing at the centre of the stage, taking a knife from the banquet manager and mimicking slicing it.

The spotlight comes onto me again.I blink a few times, bringing me back to the present, as I carry on with my lines.

[fizzlemawizzle]

internal monologue

“You know I almost went home just now?”

What? No - don’t go. Why? This has gone too far.

Say something!

“It’s up to you if you want to go or not.”

Not that, you fucking idiot. Tell him you want him to stay!

“so do you want me to stay or not?”

Yes! Yes of course you do! Tell him you want him to stay.

“It’s up to you.”

You absolute fucking idiot. You want him to stay why won’t you say it?

I can’t bring myself to say the words. Those simple words - ‘yes, I want you to stay’ - like milking a stone for water.

You’ve started packing up your things.

You’ve done it this time. He’s leaving.

But I don’t want him to leave. Why can’t I say so?

Because you’re a prideful idiot who has to uphold some semblance of being in control when everything is falling apart. You try to hold it all together but you forget that it’s not just about you anymore, it’s about him as well

Look, he’s standing up. This is it.

No - don’t go! But I can’t bring myself to say anything - my chest is tightening, my breathing is getting heavier - I know what is coming. Fear is making its way up, invading my core, its tendrils snaking across my heart and settling into me.

 - 

You stand up in front of me. I keep my eyes down, not wanting to look at you leave. Suddenly your hand is in front of me, and I look up slowly, not knowing exactly what you mean. I meet your eyes and see you looking right into me. You look tired. You are tired. I know i fucked up. I let my anger take over me for too long.

I won’t lose this chance. I take your hand and pull myself up, and we head for the elevator in silence. We stop on the second floor, walk to the glass railings and look out onto the lobby below. I turn around and mumble - “sorry.” It is the only thing I can do to try to make things right.

You sigh and turn halfway to face me. I can feel you looking at me. Your arm reaches across my back and gently rubs it, as I sink back into that familiar space where I know I will always belong. 

[fizzlemawizzle]

followup

Hello, doctor - yes, I know it’s been a while, I finally found the time to book a followup appointment with you.

Yes, yes, everything’s fine - wonderful actually! All those symptoms I was worried about - turns out nothing was really wrong! I was worried for nothing really.

Yes, my heart is fine now - I could say it’s never been better! Those heart palpitations i mentioned have really toned down. Yea, they sometimes come back, but it’s usually only at certain times when I look at him.

Haha, yes doctor, there’s a him now. But back to me - my heart races sometimes when I look at him, like when he’s driving or when he’s concentrating really hard on something. I can’t help it, there’s something about him that makes my heart feel like it’s about to explode into a million fireworks.

Nope, no more sweaty palms - it’d be a bit difficult to hold his hand with sweaty palms, wouldn’t it? 

That’s actually another thing I wanted to talk to you about. It’s like there’s this whole new dimension opened up to me now - touch. It’s like I can be having the worst day of my life but all it takes is a hug, or even just having his hand on my back and it just magically becomes better! It’s amazing, isn’t it?

Oh yea, he’s still on my mind all the time - but it’s more of a background thing now. It’s more like a slow burn - a nice, warm burn that warms my mind up. Weird, right?

This love thing, yea, it’s so weird. It’s like sometimes I still can’t believe that I’m not sick, and that this is a normal thing that happens to people. There’s no scientific explanation behind it, is there? Yea, I didn’t think so. But it’s such a common affliction, isn’t it?

I was right though - it’s like being drugged, but not in a bad way! No matter how much time has passed - I think it’s been almost three years since I first came to you? - I find that I’m always craving him, like I’m never tired of being around him. 

I think that’s it for this appointment, doctor - yea I’ve never felt better in my life, like I’m a whole new person. This love thing - I could live with it for the rest of my life, no problem! 

Yea, I’m definitely in love.

[fizzlemawizzle]

past lives

25XX BC

With the last block pushed into place, it was the end of work for the day. The tombs were slowly taking shape - huge three-sided structures, requiring hundreds of thousands of us slowly moving great slabs of limestone over equally great distances and pushing them into place precisely as dictated by the great architects.

After the evening meal, most of us retired to our sleeping quarters, eager to finally rest our weary bodies before another day of labour. I laid on my side and waited for sleep to take over the rest of my fellow men, before slowly getting to my feet and exiting the tent, making sure to stay in the shadows.

I almost yelped when you grabbed my hand. You raised a finger to your lips, squeezing my hand at the same time. Despite the new moon, I recognised you instantly. We trekked up to the unfinished tomb, climbing and pulling each other up the set stones until we came to the highest point. We sat beside each other, looking up at the night sky with her cloak of stars stretching as far as our eyes would permit us to see. Your fingers traced patterns in my palm as I laid my head against your shoulder, tracing our future among the stars and dreaming impossible futures into being along the fabric of the night.

18XX

The tolling church bells broke me out of my daze, bringing me back to the cold pillar i was leaning against. I shuffled my feet on the uneven cobblestones and pulled out my pocketwatch, flipping it open.

12:37.

We were supposed to meet here at 12:30. You were never the most punctual of people, and even though it was only 7 minutes past our agreed-on rendezvous I still felt a pang of apprehension. Suppose someone caught wind of us? Or someone saw us? I shook my head, and the thought along with it.

“There you are.” I jerked up at the sound of your voice.

“You’re late”, I said - a little too forcefully, in hindsight - snapping my pocketwatch shut. You responded with that charming smirk and pushed me into the small alcove behind the pillar, pressing your lips against mine. I took you in, filling myself with you, lost in your touch, transported away from this dingy corner someplace where we could be together without fear or judgement.

I broke us out of the reverie, looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes, the colour of love, harbouring infinite possibilities.

“What did you tell your mother?”

“I told her I was going to church to confess my sins.”

We laughed together, and you fell into my arms with your head on my shoulder. I felt you sigh into me, and we stayed there for an eternity, hiding in solace in each other’s arms.

191X

“C’mon get in, get in here now!”

I dropped into the foxhole, tumbling down and landing on my back. I looked up and saw you, upside down, back against the foxhole wall, your knuckles white from gripping your rifle too hard.

“You alright?” you asked, knocking my helmet with your rifle butt.

I clambered up next to you, nodding as I sat up. Bullets were flying right above our heads, whistling past us as rifles pumped round after round back and forth.

Damn Germans getting too full of themselves. It’d been 5 days into the firefight already, and they showed no sign of backing down. It’d also been 5 days since I saw you, and this temporary relief from the chaos was sorely welcome. i inched my hand towards your resting hand, clasping it tightly.

“How’ve you been holding up?”

“Jones is gone, Matthew went to flank them on the right, and you’re the best thing I’ve seen since we started this damn fight.”

You really had such a way with words.

“I don’t think we’re gonna survive this.”

“Damn right we won’t. But we’re not going down that easy. I’m gonna take some of them scum down with me.”

Pulling me in, you kissed me full on the mouth, igniting the passion we discovered all those months ago all over again. Letting go, you winked at me before raising your rifle out of the foxhole and emptying the magazine into the frontlines.

1945

It’d been an exhausting night full of uncertainties, with the all-clear signal already having sounded twice. The morning was eerie, the city filled with a restless energy. I rushed over to your hut, wanting to be with you in case anything else happened and we were separated again.

You were strangely calm, looking out the window into the distance. Were you worried, or accepting of our probable impending death? I didn’t know. I went up behind you and wrapped my arms around your waist, squeezing you tight.

You put your arms around mine, gripping my forearms firmly. I buried my face into your back, inhaling your familiar scent. There weren’t many opportunities for us to be like this, and even lesser now with the war going on. We remained in silence, until a deafening boom and a blinding flash of light returned us to the universe as dust.

198X

I knew when the nurses brought you up to the ward that this was the last time I’d see you alive. These remaining nurses - brave souls, all of them, helping to fight against this unknown disease that was slowly taking all these men - hurried out, getting ready to bring in the next patient.

I tried to get you comfortable - or as comfortable as you could be, since you were in constant pain. I held back my tears as best I could, but my emotions betrayed me as a single tear escaped.

“Hey now, hey, hey - don’t cry. You don’t cry.” You raised your arm, thin from all the weight you lost to the mysterious disease, and stroked my cheek. You managed a weak smile, and that just made it all worse.

I pulled the blanket back, and carefully climbed into the narrow bed next to you. Your frail body - a mere shadow of what you used to be - curled into me, and I placed an elbow below your head, making it easier for you to look up.

We spent the day reminiscing - our first meeting, our first date, moving in together, the first bruise-like marks on your body that began the slow, torturous descent into this strange illness. Laughing, crying, both at the same time - we ran through the past at breakneck speed, trying to fit everything we could in as short a time as possible, afraid to miss out anything in case it would disappear from our memories. You were breathing heavily, almost panting as you recovered from the last bout of laughter.

You turned your face towards me, groaning as you did.

“Fight. Promise me you’ll fight against this.”

“Shh - don’t say anything -”

“You think I haven’t seen that bruise on your side? I know you’ve got it too - whatever this is. But you need to promise me that you’ll fight, as hard as you can.”

True, I’d been hiding the bruise from everyone. I knew what it meant - that I was next. But I didn’t want him worrying - not now.

“We’ll fight together. You’ll get better - you will.”

“You know I won’t. I’m going to die. But I don’t want you to.”

My tears escaped again, and I pulled you in tight, as though I could rip you from Death’s grip if I tried hard enough.

“I love you. Always have, and always will.”

I felt your chest settle from that breath, and never come up again.

3XXX

We walked onto the bridge, past long hallways leading to even longer hallways on this maze of a ship. We were somewhere in the middle of the Andromeda galaxy, making our way to some planet somewhere to start our lives anew. I obviously didn’t really care where we were heading to - just that I would be starting my life with you.

Earth had been declared uninhabitable centuries ago. Following that, the death of the sun just accelerated the need to find a new place to live. We’d just come out of a cryogenic sleep not long ago, projected to last the entire duration needed to make it to this part of the galaxy. Unlike all those classic scifi flims, none of the ship’s functions failed, and we were right on track to this whole new world.

The ship’s bridge overlooked the central plaza, surrounded by towering glass panels that looked out into space. Standing there in front of the vast infinity that lay before us, I was struck by this intense awe at what the future held for us. Agriculture, living on a permanent land mass, feeling the sun shining down on us again - an artificial one, but a functioning one - never did I think it possible. And all that with you by my side.

I looked out at the stars, and followed the map laid out before us to the start of our new beginning.