Post by Wolfe on May 23, 2015 23:21:02 GMT -5
It was a scene well entrenched into the deepest recesses of my mind, a recurring memory that simply would not fade away. A dream that came to me often. A past constantly in pursuit of the present.
That day was a cold one. I remember freezing. Shivering in the frost-filled air, clinging on to what warmth we had. Holding on to ideals that no longer rang true. Ideals that evaporated in the face of reality. Intangible. Irrecoverable.
Insane.
I remember that look in her eyes, too. Pleading, I think it was.
“… come with me...please…”
Her hand was outstretched. It offered to me another chance.
Blood stained her armor an ashen shade of red, and covered the snow in a brilliant crimson hue. There was death in the air, but it was a fragile hope that covered her face. It had been stronger once. It once held an unbreakable quality to it, conveyed a sense of defiance. It still did, I suppose. Months of disillusionment had done little to sustain the feeling, but it was still there, clinging to life. I could sense her trembling a little, then, but it wasn’t from the cold.
She reached out her hand, as if to clasp mine.
Had I taken it, perhaps I would have known happiness. A joy that only a life without fear could bring. But I knew that I would always be scared. Wherever I ran, my phantoms were bound to follow. Unrelenting and ruthless.
Her lips moved, doubtlessly trying to convince me to leave behind the past for something better. I don’t blame her for that.
I stared up at her, expressionless.
“Know this, at least. My regrets are many, but I won’t ever regret meeting you.”
I had already turned away and began walking when she called out to me:
“Take care, will you?”
I faded into the flurry of ice without an answer.
There are many things that day that appear only in fragments to me, or are clouted by lapses in my memories. But no matter how many times I relive that day, one thing always appears clear to me.
She changed the moment I left her, losing the last shreds of her hopes. She cast off the broken promises she had clung on to for so long. From then on, I knew her no longer.
Of that I’m sure.
That day was a cold one. I remember freezing. Shivering in the frost-filled air, clinging on to what warmth we had. Holding on to ideals that no longer rang true. Ideals that evaporated in the face of reality. Intangible. Irrecoverable.
Insane.
I remember that look in her eyes, too. Pleading, I think it was.
“… come with me...please…”
Her hand was outstretched. It offered to me another chance.
Blood stained her armor an ashen shade of red, and covered the snow in a brilliant crimson hue. There was death in the air, but it was a fragile hope that covered her face. It had been stronger once. It once held an unbreakable quality to it, conveyed a sense of defiance. It still did, I suppose. Months of disillusionment had done little to sustain the feeling, but it was still there, clinging to life. I could sense her trembling a little, then, but it wasn’t from the cold.
She reached out her hand, as if to clasp mine.
Had I taken it, perhaps I would have known happiness. A joy that only a life without fear could bring. But I knew that I would always be scared. Wherever I ran, my phantoms were bound to follow. Unrelenting and ruthless.
Her lips moved, doubtlessly trying to convince me to leave behind the past for something better. I don’t blame her for that.
I stared up at her, expressionless.
“Know this, at least. My regrets are many, but I won’t ever regret meeting you.”
I had already turned away and began walking when she called out to me:
“Take care, will you?”
I faded into the flurry of ice without an answer.
There are many things that day that appear only in fragments to me, or are clouted by lapses in my memories. But no matter how many times I relive that day, one thing always appears clear to me.
She changed the moment I left her, losing the last shreds of her hopes. She cast off the broken promises she had clung on to for so long. From then on, I knew her no longer.
Of that I’m sure.