A second chance at sanity

"let go"

~dolorem in lacrimas effundere—to find relief in tears.~
Cedar- Gracie Abrams

Her obsession with her began the moment he declared that he loved her. And even as she took a sip of her rooibos tea, she seemed to exude this lack lustre grace and zest of life. The life that Mui lacked.

The life that escaped every pore of her skin the moment she decided to let go. Decided to pretend that he wasn't once the bane of her existence.

Her obsession with Jo's new love, Yumar began the moment he laid eye's on her. In front of her. As though the city of Anima was a puppeteer, dangling their paper skin in front of her, the audience. As though for some reason her wounds that already festered with this crippling fear of being alone just had to be rubbed with salt. This fear that whatever love was there would forever exist solely in her mind and her mind only. As a facade. A mirage.

A reflection in her tears. A reflection in her relief. Her refuge.

Mui sobbed as she watched from her terrace. Jo smiling at Yumar. Eating up her every word. His eyes beckoning her to go on intently. Then it hit her. He probably thought of her the way she thought of him. As an idol. A maze. A maze waiting to be trekked barefoot.

She ran back into her studio apartment, with walls that had been recently stripped due to incidents of black mould. And recently refurbished sofas whose previous shade of mint green peaked through the maroon cover. The walls seemed to stare at her pitifully as she went through the apartment looking for the sketchpad. As though they were begging her to finally release him into the air as though he were a helium filled balloon.

But she couldn't. Everyday was her last day loving him. And every tomorrow brought a new beginning of the end. A new hatred for herself and her unwillingness to let herself love. To let herself enjoy without feeling the need to protect. To avoid.

She cried. Even though the sky wasn't crying today it was still gloomy. Dreary. Melancholic. Like her tear streaked, almost obsidian eyes.

She drew Yumar. Her almond eyes shone through the mist, almost emanating rays of gold. Even from miles away you could tell she was in love. Mui's heart lurched as she tried to swallow whatever moments of this light that seemed to diffuse whatever sadness the city imposed on its citizens.

She shaded in the paper outlines of Yumars face with flecks of yellow in some places. She was shocked that someone could look as though they had been kissed by the sun even though it had been dominated by the clouds for days.

She shaded in the chestnut brown of her coily hair. From a distance it looked like each individual tuft had grown even more taut. Probably from the humidity. And the fact that her line of sight was blurred by her tears.

She drew her shoulders and her collarbone,    and the straps of her white cocktail dress. He took of his varsity jacket and gave it to her. She grinned a cheesy grin so theatrical you'd think they knew they were being watched and were simply putting up a show. She kinda hoped they were simply acting. Like a facade. A mirage. A reflection in the tears she took comfort in.

Found relief in.

She had to remind herself that indeed he was a balloon filled with helium and she was simply preventing him from reaching altitudes he was meant to reach. Like a sick barnacle on a small ship. That acted as some sort of anchor.

She looked at them as they smiled at something. Probably something miniscule. Then she couldn't take it anymore so she left the balcony and went into her dingy apartment. The apartment with walls so pitiful they almost caved in and gave her a hug. And sofas that swallowed her up as though she was simply a moment in time made permanent, made into a photograph.

A token.

She thought of Sven. Then she thought of rejection. Then remembered that she never owned any of these people in the first place so letting go was just like holding on. Only in this sense she was holding on to nothing.  Just a fleck of dust that refused to settle on any surface that wasn't the surface of his heart.

Even as a shadow, she'd chase the light just to once again be one with him. Even as a speck of dust, she'd refuse to settle on a surface that wasn't the surface of his heart. Today the sky wasn't crying. Anima wasn't on it's knees anymore, begging the sky for mercy. It was standing up straight. Doing it's job as a puppeteer.

Getting people up and dangling people around in their workplaces. Children and teachers in schools. Bus conductors. Restaurant workers. Office workers. Florists. Bakers. Marketeers.

Dangling them right in front of her face. 

She went back out onto the balcony and looked down. They weren't there anymore.

They had walked away. Deeper into the abyss of a puppy love that she hoped wouldn't last them as long. Deeper into the mist.  The mist that somehow was permeated by her eyes. Her beautiful gold eyes that probably had flecks in them. Flecks of yellow. Flecks of taupe.

She remembered she had work but wasn't alarmed. It was really early in the morning. So early that even she began to question her own sanity. But she wasn't the only one up. Obviously. And work started around six in this town.

It took people a while to navigate the streets. Streets that blended into each other and seemingly swallowed people up. With shadows that outstretched their limbs the way the concrete canopies did. As though they were striving to touch the sky. The way Jo was destined to.

He was destined to share his light.

To touch the sky.

And she just happened to drag him into the sea.

Hold him down.

And drown him.

Like an anchor.