We spent the night dancing away. We never grew tired or each other's company just as we never stopped looking into each other's eyes. What lasted hours only felt like minutes, and if time always moved this fast with him, it felt like I would need an eternity to be satisfied.
The world seemed to fall away while we danced. My worries, the gazebo, even the music seemed to fade into oblivion. My thoughts- no, my being- could only see, hear, and feel Mystery. Everything else just disappeared, including time.
It was Mystery who first saw the orangish glow rising on the horizon, and it was he who had to end the dance. It it were up to me, I would've just said forget the wedding. I would've said that I'm never leaving here again, and that I don't care of I forget who I am. If I had Mystery, I would be okay.
But Mystery would never let me do that. He would say that I don't know how torturous it is to have no sense of identity. Then he would say that he actually wants me to stay, but he also wants what is best for me, and what's best for me is not being trapped here waiting for eternity to end. He would say that no matter how bleak things may seem to me, at least things will be moving forward. At least I wouldn't be stuck.
I know that he would say all of this because I asked him. I asked him, and he insisted that I can't stay. He said he wouldn't want to bestow the same fate on me that he is suffering through. I know that he is right, but then again it feels so wrong. Life is cruel in that way: what's best isn't always what is wanted.
Mystery seemed tense after that conversation. I don't know if he actually was or if that was just my emotions blurring things to appear that way, but I swear that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore. It was almost as if he was trying to hide something, but once again, I was probably just seeing things.
Now we are walking through the garden back to the fountain, and I can't help but feel a sense of dread rushing over me like the sea during high tide. It came at me hard, fast, and it swallowed me while. The night is over, I come to a sudden realization, so I can't put off what today will bring any longer. I feel my body weakening, my walls breaking. Only one thought enters my mind: I can't do this.
We have just reached the clearing of the fountain when I freeze. There's no more hiding. There's no more pretending to be brave when I'm actually terrified. I have to face my fears, but I don't know if I can. My father taught me many things, but he failed me in one very important way: he protected me so much that he never taught me to stand in the face of adversity. Now that it is staring me right in the eyes, all I want to do is play possum. I want to disappear from it and stay hidden forever.
But I can't do that. That's not how life works. I need to move forward, but I just stand. Move, I tell myself, but my feet stay rooted to the ground like a tree. That is when the frustration settles in. Go, but my body isn't mine.
Mystery only makes it a couple steps ahead of me when he notices that I've stopped. He turns to me with a look of confusion, but when he sees me, his face softens and his eyes fill will with worry. "Sage?" He questions gently. He loosely holds my hand still, but I feel my grip on the world fading fast.
I feel my lip trembling, but I try to stay strong. "I'm okay," I say weakly, but then I feel the hot trail of a traitorous tear fall down my cheek, and I know that my lie has no chance of succeeding.
"Sage..." Mystery pursues gently.
I want to tell him that I'm terrified. I want to tell him that my stomach feels like a knot from nerves. But worst of all, I want to tell him that I'm scared for what's about to happen. I want to tell him that I'm not ready to let go, that I'm not ready to give in.
But I don't. I don't want to worry him. Not when he already has enough to worry about.
I take a deep breath and wipe away the tear, blinking away any others threatening to spill. I nod, trying to convince him that I'm alright, trying to convince myself. My voice comes out stronger this time, firmer, "I'm fine, Mystery."
He stares at me for a moment, studying me. His eyes say that he doesn't believe me, but his words betray him because he slowly says, "Okay."
To prove to him that I'm fine so that he doesn't have to worry, I'm the one to continue walking again. It feels like I'm pushing against a wall, but with all my will power, I finally am able to move forward again. I take my hand from his, and leave him a few paces behind me. For once, I'm the one who is taking the step closer to my impending fate, but that doesn't mean I'm not scared. The fountain looms before me, and I'm afraid step into to it. I'm afraid to take a step closer to Mr. Daniels.
My shoulders start to shake as I stare at the monument, my nerves and courage fleeting. I keep my back to him, because I know that as soon as I see Mystery, I'll crumble to the ground and cry. I'm starting to get a very bad feeling now. It feels as if a snake has wrapped itself around my heart, and slowly but ever so painfully, it is starting to constrict.
However, the worst part is that Mystery is that snake.
"Sage, don't leave like this." I hear him take a step closer to me, and that feeling tightens. "Don't leave while you're upset again," Mystery pleads from behind me.
I close my eyes because sometimes not seeing at all is better than seeing the reality of life. "The next time you see me, I'll be Mrs. Daniels," my voice comes out sad, defeated. When I open my eyes again, I'm looking down at my reflection in the fountain, and it is as if I am seeing a stranger. I don't know who this miserable looking girl is that is staring back at me, but she can't be me. She can't be.
But she is.
Mystery is quiet for a few moments. The silence and tension in this air is thick enough to make it hard to breathe. I turn my head to the side, and the girl mimics me. A tear slides down her cheek, but when I go to wipe it off. It isn't there.
It isn't there.
"Sage," he finally says, his voice filled with the distinct sound of longing and regret. He's quiet for another second, a second that lasts a hundred normal ones, or at least it feels that way. I take a shaky breath, bracing myself for what's to come.
No more hiding. No more pretending.
I hear his words from earlier in the night in my head, Maybe it can be our song. You think of me, and I'll think of you. That way we never forget.
I was blind before, or maybe I was just deaf. Maybe I didn't want to understand, but I do know. I always have known but I kept it or buried it beneath denial, and that makes his next words hurt even more.
Finally, that infinite second comes to an end, and no matter how much I prepared myself, it still feels like I took a dagger to the chest when he softly and delicately says, "You and I both know there won't be a next time."
My heart drops so far in my chest that it is a wonder that it is still beating. I stand silent, my entire being breaking, but he can't see that. He can only see my shaking back, my tense shoulders. He can't see that I'm falling to pieces.
He's careful with his words, like a doctor breaking the news to his patient that he doesn't have much time left to live just like my father's doctor did. He tries not to hurt me, but each syllable feels like a rock being thrown against my chest, and it hurts like it is about to rupture. "We both know that you'll be married today, and after that there's no more sneaking out, and soon, you'll be gone completely."
Still, I'm silent. What is there to say? What can I say?
"Sage," he says with desperation laced in his voice. "We both know that you can't stay here. We both know that this is goodbye."
My body throbs with each beat of my heart.
"Please, don't let the last time I see you be like this. Don't let this be how I remember you when you left."
And with those words, my knees collapse. The tears come fast now, the river has been released. I lean over the fountain, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over me from the night I first discovered Mystery. I was knelt over the fountain in tears, only that time I felt hopeless, and this time it hurts so much more.
My reflection isn't alone for long, though, because soon his joins mine. He wears a look of despair, but he doesn't cry. His eyes glisten, and his lips seem stitched in a permanent frown, but he tries to stay strong for me, I can tell, and that only makes it hurt all the worse.
He kneels beside me, his hand placed on my back in an attempt to comfort me, but at this time, I don't think anything can. My pain must radiate through him, because he seems to have the undying need to apologize. They start pouring out of him as if he is a cloud and his words are the rain drops. "I'm sorry for scaring you the first night you came here, and I'm sorry for not pushing you away when you came back. I'm sorry for letting you become close to me when I knew our relationship wouldn't last long, and I'm sorry for all the pain and confusion I've put you through since. I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you while you were being tormented by your mother or betrothed, and I'm sorry I can't be there for you now. I'm sorry, Sage, I'm so sorry for everything. I sorry I can't follow you. You have no idea for how sorry I am."
I hear his words, his words that are dripping with emotion, but they go straight through me. If anything, they make me feel guilty. The thing is, it's not his fault. He shouldn't be apologizing for any of this; it should be me.
"No," I say, my voice chocked and strained, "I should be the one apologizing. I was the one who made a promise I couldn't keep, not you. I'm sorry I promised I would help you. I'm sorry I couldn't keep it."
He's quick to the handle on this one, barely letting me finish my sentence before saying, "But you have helped me. I remember things now. I remember what my parents looked like, and I remember a song from my past and the one that you taught me. I remember you, Sage. You've told me who I am and what I could be. You've made me, against all odds, feel like I'm alive again, like I have a chance. You gave me hope, and that is the best gift you could've given me. I'm not going to accept your apology because I should be thanking you."
If he would've told me this at any other time, I would be crying for an entirely different reason. They would be tears of joy, but now they can only be called bittersweet. He just told me the kindest thing I've ever heard, but it's because he's saying goodbye.
Why is it that people wait till they are saying goodbye to say what they really feel? Why do they wait until it is too late?
I'm not ready to say goodbye, but I don't have a choice. I don't think I'll ever be ready, and what's even worse is that I'm not sure I'll ever recover from this. How do you heal what is hurt on the inside? How do you fix something that doesn't look broken?
But oh does it hurt worse than any physical pain I've ever experienced.
I stare at my reflection, the sky turning red behind it. I don't have much time now. We don't have much time now. The world around us is hardening, turning harsher and more foreboding. It really is evil, this place, but it also holds so much good in it, or rather it hides it. I look at the man beside me. The way he is tenderly looking over me makes my heart constrict even more, but it makes me feel something else, too. It makes me feel warm on the inside, and all of these contrasting emotions have my head spinning. I'll never forget this moment, I tell myself, just as I'll never forget any other moment I've shared with Mystery.
Even if it breaks me a little every time I think back to him, I won't forget him.
It is then that I realize just how lucky I am. Not everyone gets to meet a person like Mystery in their lives, and I doubt another person ever will. In this way, Mystery will always be mine, and a part of me will always belong to him. He has helped me transition from being a child to a young adult, and he will always have both parts to remember.
He is more precious to me than anything I could ever own or have, but no one can know about him because I would be written off as crazy and delusional, and I would most likely be sent somewhere to get help.
Mystery will always be my secret. He will always be in that place in my heart that all girls keep reserved for someone.
I stand up then feeling better but not by much. It'll be a miracle if I can make it through this day at all in the state I'm in, but I'll have to. Mother wouldn't postpone it even if the world split open and the sky fell with it. If I feigned a sickness, she would pump me full with herbs until I could barely walk or talk, let alone form a coherent thought. There's no getting out of this. There's no escape, so the only thing I can do is stand up and face it.
When I turn around, Mystery is already standing behind me. He looks just as miserable as I feel, and I can't imagine he feels any better. Still, though, I can always find solace in his arms. I wrap my arms around him and pull him close, never wanting to let go even though I know I have to. Mystery is the only thing I have left: a piece of driftwood keeping me from sinking into the cold, dark depths of my fate.
But no one can stay afloat forever.
Eventually the tide will change or a storm will come along, upsetting the balance of everything as you slowly start to lose your grip on things, slipping into the dark abyss you so desperately fought to avoid. Mystery is my piece of driftwood, and Mr. Daniels is the hurricane that has come to drag me in to the bottomless sea of black. Because of him, I will drown in my fate unable to escape it and unable to cry for help.
I may have to let go of Mystery, but I will always have him with me. In my mind, in my heart, in my soul. As long as he remembers me, I'll remember him, and as long as I remember him, he'll remember me.
"Promise that you won't forget me," I whisper with a tremble since my heart is caving in on itself.
"In a world where anything is possible, I think that that may be the only exception," he whispers so softly and emotionally that it only causes my chest to ache more.
I take a shaky breath, "Say it please." This time my voice cracks at the end, and I know that soon another waterfall will start to flow from my eyes. "Just promise me."
"I promise that I'll never forget you, Sage," he whispers in my ear, "Never." I don't think I've ever heard such devotion and honesty in one promise before.
I know that he will never forget about me, and I will never forget about him. The tears sting behind my eyes, and I don't think it has ever hurt this bad.
Then he pulls away just enough to look into my eyes. His eyes are swimming, and he wears a small smile. "Just don't forget me, okay?" He asks. His voice comes out quieter, "That way someone will know that I existed and am not just an illusion. That way, I won't just fade in to forever again."
"Forgetting you would be like trying to forget the sun. I never could, and I'd never want to," I whisper.
He smiles fully then, his eyes filling with something new: hope. "I'd like to think that I'd be harder to forget than the sun," he says lightly.
I laugh, but it comes out sounding like a mix between a sob and a giggle. He laughs with me, his coming out in the same desperate way."Gosh, I'm going to miss you," I say.
"And I'll miss you more than the night would miss the stars," he breathes.
I feel it again: that pull, that desire. The need to lean in closer to him so that there is no more space between us is strong, and he must feel it, too. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, it seems like time stops. The sun stops rising, the urgency to leave fades, and all rational thought leaves. It is only us.
It is only us.
But then, just as soon as it came, it is gone. Mystery pulls away from me, and he looks to the sky. He clears his throat. "The sun is almost up."
I nod although he isn't looking at me. Slowly, I pull my hand from his. It feels harder to breathe now, harder to stand. I used to be able to live without Mystery, and I still can, but now it is a question of whether or not I want to.
I turn my back to him, unable to look his way because if I did, I wouldn't be able to leave. The water reflects the red of the sky tauntingly, the sun winking at me on the horizon. I used to love sunsets, but after this one, I don't think I'll ever see them the same way again. They don't bring happiness; they only bring me misery.
Fighting an inner battle with myself on whether to leave or do the impossible choice of staying, I take my first step into the water, my body causing ripples in the once perfect picture. It's my way of spiting it for coming so soon, for giving me a new beginning that I am not yet ready for.
As I start to sink into the water, into the bottomless sea that has been waiting for me, I close my eyes, having such little time left but having so much to say. However, out of all the possibilities roaming in my mind, I simply say, "I won't give up."
He's quiet for a second, and for a moment, I worry that I was too late, that he was gone sooner than I thought, but then he speaks. His voice is weaker now, filled with so many emotions that I can't decipher a single one from the rest, but together they equal pain.
They create a pain that equals mine.
"Won't give up on what?"
My heart is pounding hard, threatening to leave my chest and stay with Mystery. But it doesn't, that's impossible. It may be an exaggeration, but that is definitely what it feels like.
"I won't give up on love," I say, and when I open my eyes to look at him one last time, to forever imprint his image, his scent, and his presence in my mind, he's gone, and I'm alone.
I'm standing in the fountain, soaking wet. The birds are singing, the sun is rising, and the air is alive with the scent of flowers. I used to love the sight of this, and I would look forward to it even. My childhood was raised on this moment. I was molded by it.
But, despite all of this, there is something about me that just doesn't feel right anymore. It's like I'm empty, void, full of darkness. I feel dead in a world full of life, making me an outsider to all that is good.
A house full of people is waiting for me. They'll be vying for my attention, wanting to talk to me if only for a moment. I am going to be surrounded by a sea of strangers, but that's the thing: they are strangers. They don't know me, so they don't understand me, not like Mystery did, and no one ever will.
The horrifying truth hits me hard: I am now alone in this world.
I am utterly and painfully alone.
So that made me upset.... :( Go ahead and hate me because I pretty much hate myself right now, too.
Next chapter will be up soon. Let me know what you think, and don't forget to vote.