Dismantled

The Hands That Killed Me

► Catharsis 2
Final II Entry

"How much tears have you cried today, my love?"

His hands snake on my naked skin, leaving everything ablaze on its trail. Slowly, his thumb reaches my cracked cheeks; and his touch feels like the warmest of sensation over my arid face.

I put my longing gaze into his eyes. In an instant, the lights come to blind me—but I cannot take my stare away from him. My dry lips part to utter the answer to his question, "A lot, my love. I cried so much that it flooded and drowned the nearby town."

And then there's that familiar smile on his lips—the lopsided one that made me fell. I turn my back at him, scared that he will see my face turning red.

"Tell me about your day, my dear. I'd like to know," I say gently as I clip behind my ear the sole loose strand of hair; then slowly twisting my head to his side for a little sneak peek.

He exhales and puffs grey clouds of smog everywhere, filling the whole room. Its suffocating scent hover and cling on my body; and I wear it proudly like a perfume. He clears his throat before letting his coarse voice speak, "my day's as restless as all of my days are. Building and building; neverending construction and tinkering. Always looking for something beautiful to create." He leans closely to my face, I can feel the warmth of his breath and how it runs through the little fibers of my left ear.

"We're running out of space to build on," he whispers, "pretty soon, we'll be taking again something that is yours. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

That's when I feel like time has stopped. I look down on his arms wrapped around my waist as I recollect my thought.

"Would you?" he repeats, his voice sounds doubting this time.

I push a fake smile into exposure and turn around to face him. Our gazes meet again and I can see all the city lights shining inside his eyes—and my fake smile suddenly feels genuine.

He looks at me knowingly and I shake my head, "no, darling, I wouldn't mind. What's mine is yours and yours forever for I love you more than anything." I rest my hands on both sides of his face, my palms deposit my seedlings on each crevices of his cheeks. His left hand rises and holds my right hand on his cheek, he looks at me with the smile of a little kid—he's probably lost counting the uncountable constellations residing and beaming inside my eyes.

His grip on my hand tightens a bit, "how could you love someone like me?" he asks foolishly.

"How could I not?" I reply back.

"I only brought nothing but pain to you, and I'll only hurt you again and again. It will just be the same kind of story."

His hand lets go of my hand, leaving a burned patch on its place.

I exhale through my nose, "darling, have you forgotten that loving is hurting?" I jokingly query as I pinch his cheeks to form anthills, "Loving you means that I'm willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of your happiness for I love you selflessly. I don't care about the hurt, or the pain, or all the damages my body and soul have been enduring for I love you wholeheartedly. And if my jeopardy will bring you your life and your place to thrive, then be it for I love you unconditionally."

"But I don't want you to be in pain, I love yo–"

"No, darling. You don't love me. You only need me and that's perfectly fine by me. You don't have to utter all the lies of the galaxy just to make me feel beautiful—I want just a little bit of stardust of truth more than a universe of lies."

He pulls up his face of an angel with the saddest of eyes, the mask he always wear everytime I become like this. "But, my love, you are beautiful—you were made and destined to be beautiful. Your face, your stars, your curves; every piece of you is like a puzzle piece combining to create a masterpiece." His thumb rubs my chin, burning it once again.