Never Let Go

I walk along our lonely streets. I am searching for a memory, searching for what got left behind. A glance back would reveal that my silent feet have left no prints in the fallen snow, but I have no time to spare such glances. Not to mention I find it more comforting to not look at the details of my situation quite so first handedly. I trudge along still trying to find what I have lost, what was stolen from me.

The dark houses come into my view as moonlight glistens on them. Forgotten images rush to my mind. I can feel the undeniable pleasure after the perfumed smoke filled our lungs to heal our broken spirits. The sound of screams from your house on those countless dreadful nights echo through the air as I look in the direction of the cursed home of your family. The taste of your chapped lips and salty tears linger in my mouth as I look upon the patch of grass under the great weeping willow where we held each other for the last and the first time. Along with that comes the feeling of your warm breath on my neck, your calloused fingers pressed against my back, and the soothing sound of your voice telling me that you love me and that this love will always save us. But you lied to me! Everything wasn't ok, we weren't safe. An accident is what they were calling it. There is nothing accidental about what happened to you. That bastard, who had the arrogance to call himself your family, was angry, you were in his way, and there was nothing my love could do to save you. I want to cry so badly, the same way I cried that night, but, alas, ones like us can not cry. Instead, I allow my cold arms to tighten around my torso to provide a false sense of security and continue with my search.

I was given time to find you. Even if I hadn't have been allowed I would still be here. After all it is only fair. You saved me once so I am in your debt. You destroyed me as well. In truth though, I would be willing to suffer eternity to be in your arms again.

I turn to the next street, every step I come closer to where I'm sure I'll find you. I see other strays in trees and peering at me through windows. I never knew there were so many, but I am glad I never knew. My innocent mind would have been tainted far earlier if I had known there was so much devastation in our town besides our own. Now though within a moment I know it all. I look into their piercing eyes and instantly know their stories. I wish I could help them too, but I only have the means to rescue you.

I get to the spot, the place where you should be. The street corner no longer has the vermilion stain. The crowds with their gaping, blank orbs are all tucked away in their warm beds, the terrible event repeating itself only in their nightmares. I wish I could have left it all in my dreams, but it would have been impossible. You had already taken up all the space in my dreams and my life.

I look around, my eyes darting to every niche, every corner. Where are you? What if all of this was a waste? What if you thought I'd forget about you, so in turn you forgot about me? My mind races with all these worries. There are so many faults with my plan that I never dared to think about before. I am too headstrong with my theories. I can't believe how stupid I am! It's just… it all made sense. I am how I am, that seemed enough to prove that our tragic romance may have a happy ending.

"Aria," an interruption, a blessed word that sounds like a song coming from your voice.

I turn around and there you are just as perfect as ever, except your eyes are sad in their new translucent coloring. They were once full of life, of happiness even in the worst of times, but now it is all gone.

"Ian," despite the anxiety that is still quite present in my heart, relief does flood through that single word.

"Aria, why are you like this?" you say with even more sorrow.

"I wanted to be with you. I couldn't have lived without you. Even that couple of days was pure torture," I whisper.

"It would have gotten easier. You are being overly dramatic."

I feel my eyes sting, they are crying for the tears they can no longer produce. "You know I wouldn't have been able to survive! You obviously feel the same way seeing as you have not continued on," I plead.

"Even if that is true, you didn't know how the end would be. You shouldn't have risked life for me." You say all this with something in your tone that you've never used, never towards me at least. You seem bitter, resentful, angry.

I try again, "Be honest. After all we went through together, would you have not done the same thing if you were in my position?"

You admit defeat and give a silent nod as you examine my wrists with a grim look upon your face. "Did it hurt?" you ask in a calmer, more sincere voice.

"What do you think?" I say reverting to my once lively sarcasm, realizing my harshness, I add, "It was worth it."

You grimace again, but I am not sure which of my statements it was for.

"What are those from?" you ask after a silence and point to the patches on my face that are slightly darker than the rest of my façade.

"I got into a fight with your stepfather. I couldn't let him get away with what he did to you, what he did to me. I got a good first punch in before he hit me back, so don't worry it was not a waste. Oh! His balls are going to be sore for quite a while too, I'm happy to announce."

You smile your first real smile. It lights up your sapphire eyes that are partially covered by your soft hair. I reach out and touch a tendril of that hair. I can just barely feel it. Even if I couldn't, I would always know the extraordinary feeling of those waves between my finger tips.

You gently take my hand that is in the process of tangling your already tousled hair and pull me against you. The curves of our bodies fit perfectly together just like they always have. You gently press your lips against my forehead and let them move down my face tenderly until you reach my lips. We kiss with great passion, but with even greater love. The kind of love that knows no end, the kind that doesn't believe in death, the kind that always saves. We continue to kiss, even as we begin to fade, we never let go.