Not Heaven Without Him

Not Heaven Without Him (17)

I'd like to say this is the chapter we've all been waiting for, but its not becuase that will be when she realizes who the mystery man of her past is...and yah. But, i know we've all been wondering this as well so enjoy.  

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I wake up from my dream screaming. When I realize what I'm screaming about I cup a hand over my mouth and do everything to calm myself. I refuse to be weakened by this.  

I am safe here in Heaven. I am above my life and everything that had painted it the colors that it had been. I will not dwell in the past that cannot be helped. I will not let memories lead my new life. No. I am free from that and I am restored.  

Why else would the man in the silver chair take away my memories other than to free me from my pain?  

I decide to go visit him today. He knows how to make me happy; how to take this pain off of my mind. Reckon he will probably recognize it in me, and question it, but I don't think he will send me to that room with the crying people. I probably deserve to be there, being as I am, but I'm not lashing out yet. I'm not screaming.  

I do not know where to go directly. There is no specific place that I go to; I simply go where my feet lead me.  

The place I find myself at is a library. It has ceilings so high that you can hardly see then and every inch of the walls covered with books. The only part not wallpapered in books in the wall farthest from me where there are windows that reach as high as the ceiling go and are about waist high. Warm pink and yellow light pours in and warms the room. The curtains are velvet and deep red. The room is round with ladders that spin around it to search for books at the very top. There are couches and chairs and tables decorating the floor of the room made of the same material as the drapes.  

He is sitting there, on a high backed arm chair that is exactly the same as the silver chair, except, instead of being made of the shiniest silver in the all of the heavens and Earth; it is made of the plushiest velvet in all of the herein above. I do not know how the velvet looks hard and soft at the same time, but honestly, I do not care. This is Heaven. Everything is as it should be.  

"I see you've found me," he says, setting his book on to a side table beside him. I don't see him stand up, but suddenly he's on his feet. He starts to walk towards me but I don't think his feet quite hit the ground. Before, in a time lost, I would have called these demonic qualities. Now I know they are those of someone blessed by, or maybe even, God.  

He brushes my cheek with his hand, his fingers radiating calm and complicity. It only touches the edges of my skin though.  

"So sad and pained," he murmurs, his eyes searching my face. 

"A healthy dosing," I whisper back.  

He shakes his head slightly, seeming to laugh but not actually doing so. "And stubborn still. Have a seat," and he pulls me towards a love seat.  

"Why do you insist upon not giving up?" 

I do not answer his question. I simply stare into his eyes, golden and perfect. He is the epitome goodness. A man with pale white skin that almost seems gold in some lights, eyes the color of sun here, hair just darker than his eyes, and a voice of syrup. His hands are the softest things I have ever felt and his touch is, truly, magical.  

"Because that's who you are," he muses, suddenly very close to me. He plays with my hair, gazing at the strands between his fingers intently. "You never did give. Every single time you kept trying...kept fighting. Through all that pain, all that suffering, you never gave up."  

His knees touch my leg and I don't know whether to worry or be simply pleased. This is always what I wanted. Complete happiness.  

"Who are you?" I breathe.