Love

LOVE- BY Gabriel Starr


I remember hearing somewhere that true love is not a feeling, but a willingness to act on that love. I know not how long I pondered these words before I acted, and I know not how much longer I have to ponder before I succumb to the darkness and the cold. I never knew what true love was until I met her. She was the crowing glory of all my life, the one thing I cherished above all else. I recall the late hours I spent lying on my bed, dreaming of my one true love. I could spend hours simply sitting and dreaming. In my dreams, I envisioned the true love that I someday wished to know. Her hair was like a river of gold splashing down around her shoulders as if falling from a waterfall to crash on the rocks below. Her laugh was that of a rushing river, carrying with it the true essence of life. Her lips were red and moist, as a rose in the early morning hours still wet with the dew and the coming of a new day. And her eyes, oh my god, her eyes, these were the true splendor of her face. They were indigo, shot with blue and silver. They glittered in the sun as a pond in the late evening when the last shots of golden sunlight graced the blue and cloudless sky. I could close my eyes and look into those pools of swirling colors and become lost as if I was wondering in the universe, surrounded by the glory and creation of God all Mighty. For years I wandered aimlessly, knowing that such a love would, could never exist. My heart was lost in the whirlpool of society, swept along in the waves that erased the only things which I could claim my own. I do not deny that, although I knew in my heart that no love could ever exist and that I was doomed to traverse these crooked roads alone, abandoned to the torment that was life without love, I looked never the less. It seems that men are doomed to hope for the things, which we will never find. Hope, however, is the only thing that brought me through the damnation of life without love. It was this hope, this lust to seek that which I may not attain that brought me to the unattainable. It was in the cold of a clear, crisp December night sky that my heart was struck by a lightning bolt that would keep me warm had I been naked in the freezing weather. It was a fleeting glance that brought me to my knees with the realization that an angel may fall. I was wandering the old rail tracks, gazing up at the only thing that came even close to that beauty which I drove to find, the stars, debating whether or not to lay myself on those tracks and simply wait for the next iron juggernaught to come rumbling down the lines and release me from the torment of my search. I heard the ringing of the line bells before I realized that there was a train slowly creeping along the tracks, inching its way into the void that consumed our city. They seemed to cry to me LOOK! HERE IS YOUR LOVE, MY FRIEND! I AM TRYING TO HELP YOU! But the cries fell upon deaf ears at first. I stood there, watching the behemoth roll towards me. There, in those dual headlights was the release from my pain. They seemed so inviting, wishing me no harm, but only to help me in my quest for freedom. It was like those evenings that I had slept on the ground when I was weary from travel. Those cold nights when the snow that threatened to chill my soul from my body, looked warm and inviting. I had never been one to accept hospitality, though, so I stepped from those tracks and watch the iron beast rumble by. All this time, the lights of the crossing barriers screamed to me, beckoning me to simply glance their way. I did. It was in that instance, when I saw through the window of a car, my love. I simply stared for a moment, awestruck. Slowly, ever so slowly, as if it would take an eternity for her head see me. I feared that the bars would rise before our eyes would meet, and I would loose that which I sought forever, and again I would wander lost in the chasm of loneliness, which I had come to know so well. Finally, our eyes met. For a moment, we just stared, drinking in the sight of the other. Then, across her face, like waves splashing on the beach, spread the most beautiful smile that ever did grace the face of earth. Suddenly, I was lost no longer. I had been found. In a single instant, my heart, so full of pain and loss, had been shattered and rebuilt. It was then that the bolt smashed into my mind. Here, it seems, my legs found it appropriate to run to my love before the rest of my body had caught up to them, and I collapsed. In the blink of an eye, in the time that it took for me to collapse and climb to my feet again, she had disappeared. I glanced up the road, and saw the car rolling on. From there it must have been fate that drove my legs. I rushed forth, in an attempt to reach she who had so unjustly stolen my heart from my chest even as it beat. I screamed after her as my mind shut out the activity around me, and I became single-mindedly possessed with one desire: to catch that wretched vehicle which kept me from the light. I heard nothing save for the echo of my worn boots on the cold ground as I vainly chased that car; hoping and praying that it wouldn’t be too late by the time I reached it. The vehicle came to a halt at a stop at the stop sign, I thanked god for the sign. Madly, I dashed into the traffic and came snapping back to reality as I felt the impact of the car on my knees. At this moment, I thought that I was at the end; I thought that it was unfair that I had been so close to my love, only to be conquered by the steel beast. I felt my knees snap, my legs shatter, and myself begin to fall. I hit the concrete with a hard smash and felt my skull crack on the cold pavement. I say that I felt, but I did not truly. It has been said that when the body is possessed with emotion, love in particular, that everything around you becomes invisible and wrapped in a blanket of disconnectedness. It is true. I knew that I had been hit, knew that my legs were broken, knew that I was bleeding to death in the cold December air. Yet, hope prevailed again. I began dragging myself along the street, crippled and bloody. In one last desperate attempt to reach the woman to whom I had given my heart. Slowly, a feeling of darkness enveloped and seduced me into its tendrils of despair. I was lost, lost again in that swirling sea of hopelessness and pain. I final feeling before I passed into unconsciousness, a single tear rolling on my cheek.

I awoke to the sound of silence. I glanced around me, and saw something that I had not seen in some time; the insides of a home. I tried to stand, but even moving my legs sent raging flames up my legs, causing a small cry to issue from my cold, chapped lips. At this there was a set of footsteps and the anonymous woman to whom I had given my heart was at my side. Suddenly, all of my pain was forgotten, and I was warm and carefree. I lay there, helplessly, on the couch of her small apartment. I cannot recall how long I stared at her before any words passed between us. It seemed like eons, but I know that it was only seconds. “Are you okay?” she asked. Dumbstruck, I could only nod my head. I was drinking in her sweet face. Her hair was a cascade of gold splashing on her shoulders. Her words were like the sound of a gently trickling stream, rolling amongst the banks of a lost wood. Her eyes were indigo and tinged with silver and blue. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked again, obviously taken aback by my reaction. I managed to stutter out some response that eludes me at the time. She left the room to bring me a drink. I collapsed back onto the couch and heaved a heavy sigh. She came back to my resting place with a cup of water. I reached up to take it, sending lightning bolts of pain up my shoulder. “Let me.” She declared, and took my head in her sweet hands, tipped it back, and poured the cool water down my parched throat. I did not feel the refreshment of that liquid, no, for my thirst was quenched by the touch of her hands. I might have sat there for hours with that cup to my lips. I did not matter to me that the cup would eventually be empty; all that mattered was those soft hands in my hair. Slowly, the embrace broke, and the cup left my lips. I sat up, wishing that there were more water in that cup. For several weeks I stayed with that woman. I had never felt so complete and safe in all the days of my life. Eventually, my arm healed, as did one of my legs. At this point, the doctor deemed it possible for me to walk, and I began walking again. I never strayed too far from the apartment, though; for fear that I might loose my way back. It was on the return from one such of these excursions that I was to find the thing that has driven me to this exile. I entered the apartment to find my love, Gabriel (her name had been revealed to me only a few days prior to our first encounter.), crying on the couch. Some primal instinct rose up and consumed me, like a fire consumes dry logs. There had been a man on the stairs. He was panicked, running. I knew then what had happened. He had hurt her. Her hair fell around her face, shrouding it away from my eyes. The sobs were all that broke the silence of the room. I darted off down the hall, spirals of pain shooting up my leg. It didn’t matter any more; I was oblivious to the torture. The only goal I embraced was the death of the man who had beaten my love. “Wait!” came the cry from behind me, yet I knew the word not. I heard but did not comprehend. “ I love him! He asked me to marry him!” she screamed. I did not care. I raced down the stairs, blood swelling in my veins; I knew what I was going to do when I found the bastard who had hit her. I was going to hit him. Not once, not twice, but until his skull shattered and his broken body lay bleeding in the street. The air swirled around me, enveloping me as my rage had when I saw her on that couch, wounded, hurt, crying. I saw the man, I knew him by sight, and his image was burned into my wretched mind. I lifted my cane as I drew behind him. I brought it down with all the rage and pain of my twenty-five years of humiliating, hell bound life, bought it down with a sense of justice. His screams still echo in my mind today. When the first blow fell, I could feel the snap of his shoulder. I felt the bone crack, heard the scream, and saw him hit the ground under the force of the cane. He fell to the pavement clutching at his shoulder in agony. I struck again, and again, and again. Each blow brought primal satisfaction. His blood splashed on my arms, face and legs. The heat of his blood was all the more inspiring. I continued to strike him with all the strength I had. I stumbled back, covered in the warm blood of my victim. No sooner had I stumbled back than I had launched upon him again. The sight of his crippled, broken, bloody body was more incentive to lay in to him again. He wasn’t dead. The few people on the street now raced to the aid of the man. They tried to pry me from my victim, but it was in vain. I doubt that God himself could have stopped me then. I swung the cane in wide circles, striking many of the pedestrians in the face. I continued to rain my blows, dealing death and pain in every place that was not soaked in blood. I had broken the man, never again would he hurt anybody, never again. I stopped, exhausted. The crowd had formed a ring around my victim and myself. The ring parted, and through it stepped Gabriel. “Its okay, he wont ever hurt you again.” I said in utter exhaustion. I climbed to my feet and stumbled to her, collapsing at her feet. She looked at me, soaked in the mans blood, coated in a thick covering of his life. Then she looked at him, lying there, and dead, drown in his own blood. “Oh my God…” she stuttered, and raised her hand to her mouth. “You—you sick man! I loved him.” She said. I realized then, that I had made a terrible mistake, one I could never recover from. “But, you—you were crying…” I stammered, looking for relief in the appalled faces of the crowd. “He asked me to marry him.” She said, lost in the swirling pools of blood. She stepped away from me “You—you—monster!” she screamed, “I hate you!” and she left me and ran back to her apartment. My head sagged to the concrete. I felt the pool of blood on my neck and back. I was soaked in it. There would be no redemption for me. No savior that would run to my defense. No man on earth could defend me. I was coated in the blood of Gabriel’s true love. There would be no more chances. I was banished that day, forced to roam the wastelands until the end of my time. That brings me to now. I am going to surrender to the dunes. Let my self sink into joyous oblivion and perish forever. I can feel the heat of the desert pressing in upon me, feel it forcing me into the sand. All is lost. My tale is a sad one, I know, but it is one lived throughout the ages. It is a tale of love and loss, Life and death, fear and peace. I say to you in closing, since the sands are crushing me, squeezing the life from my helpless body, that what is life when it is life with out true love?


The End