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05/08/2019 03:55 PM
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She Is Unique - Vision
She is Unique
The night sky is vast and seemingly unending. It amazes me. While the others sleep I find myself outside gazing upon the nocturnal beauty of the stars above that dot the blackened empyrean landscape. I find it calming. From this vantage the collection of complicated anomalies populating the heavens above seem so simple and elegant. The crisp, chilled night air cools my cardinal shaded skin. It is a satisfying and interesting sensation that I gladly welcome. I rather enjoy the sensation of such conditions cooling my skin.
I often come out here to ponder in this empty field, away from the Avengers Facility. Here, alone, I can reflect on the aspects of humanity that I am learning. Though I am more proficient than the average human in all aspects, I aspire to be like the humans I call friends. I was designed to be perfect, and perfection is not a human trait. Their beauty lies in their flaws. They do not see it or appreciate them as I. They do take for granted their very nature, and that in what I find most fascinating. It has been my observation that human nature is complicated and simple all at the same time. It is this in which I like to ponder upon. I will often ponder the subject of what it is to be human and how I can be more like them. I desire to understand it
There are footsteps approaching upon the dew-laced grass towards where I float. I hear them nearing, alerting me that someone is approaching. I pivot in the air to identify my companion on this night. It is my friend, Wanda Maximoff, known to the world as the Scarlet Witch. A subtle smile tugs at the corner of my lips. It is barely visible to those with an untrained eye. Though I do enjoy the company of many that I call friend, it is her company I have found to be most favorable. Perhaps it is the mutual bond of becoming Avengers at the same time after the battle with my creator, my father, Ultron. Perhaps it is that connection that causes me to feel this way. However, I feel that such a simplistic and innocent reason is not why I prefer her presence over the others. I suspect that it is because she, more so than the others, is erratic. She is a variable that I cannot predict. She is a mystery, and to that end, she is different.
Captain Rogers, for example, is quite predictable. He will always stand up for what he believes to be the right course of action. He does not stray or alter from a strict routine and regiment. Mr. Wilson similarly does so as well. I have concluded that it is their military background that has harbored and nurtured their current behavioral patterns. With limited information, it is highly likely that I can accurately predict where either of those to could be at any given moment throughout the course of the day. Others, such as our newest editions, Mr. Lang and Ms. van Dyne, are not quite as predictable as Captain Rogers or Mr. Wilson. but they are not nearly as unpredictable or erratic as Wanda has proven to be. It should be noted that I have had much more time to study her behavioral patterns than I have had to study their own. In due time I believe I can predict their reactions to any given event, such as I have for every one of my compatriots; the exception being, of course, Wanda.
With that being said, the only consistency I have noted is that she does visit me on the nights I am out here contemplating my existence, often due to her experiences with dreams of a terrible nature. Though they are still quite sporadic in her frequency of doing so, there is some consistency behind her visits. She, unlike others I know, tends to follow her whim. It is irregular and at times illogical. It does not bother me that she does this, but I do find it peculiar. This is why she has become such a variable in my existence; thus why I spend so much time trying to interpret her actions.
"Hello, Wanda," I say to her in greeting in a kind tone as she approaches me. The expression displayed upon her visage was one of comfort. I can tell this is so by the way she smiles at me. This smile she directs towards me is unique to her. No one else I have encountered has smiled at me in the manner that she does. I find it curious. The reason I find it so is because it is as if her smile is hiding something from me. I can only speculate at the validity of my observation, as I do not know, I have never asked, nor has she ever revealed otherwise. I have no intentions of asking either. I have found that humans tend to be mislead when asked directly about things they believe to be personal and secret. Such a question, I have deduced, would more than likely be considered such, and I would not receive an honest answer, at least not at the current stage in our friendship.
"Hello, Vision," she retorts, responding to my greeting. Her tone sounds troubled, though she attempted to disguise it. It was a good attempt; had it not been me she was speaking to, the others would not have picked up on it, save for perhaps Ms. Romanoff. She is quite observant, I have gathered.
I then allow myself to float back down to the ground, my feet touching the cool and dew-covered turf as I am no longer suspended. It has come to my attention that it is occasionally unsettling to my teammates when I float while I speak with them. Though it has been nearly a month now, I still occasionally unsettle those I have come to know as friend with my behavior. I continue to stand still, the light breeze picking up my cape and flapping it around my form. I am tantalized by its sensation. I often find, what Mr. Stark has referred to as "the small things in life," to be the most enjoyable.
"I am not disturbing you, am I?" she asks as she approaches apprehensively. I already know that she knows the answer to her query. It is a frequent question posed when she approaches me at this hour. Every time I answer the same. This time will be no different. I notice her eyes look glassy and bloodshot. Perhaps she had been crying again. I do not audibly acknowledge this observation, as I do not wish to make her feel uncomfortable as I have found this to be the case when pointing out particular physical irregularities.
"Not at all, Wanda," I reply, offering a comforting smile. Her apprehensiveness fades and her features soften as her ruby-hued lips curl into a similar smile. She then continues her approach to where I stand. I do not take my sapphire-colored optics from her. I have also learned that when in the company of others, it is considered courteous to maintain your attention on them; otherwise it comes off as rude and inconsiderate. I do not wish to be considered such.
"So, what are you doing out here alone on this night?" she asks, another question that she already knows the answer to. It is another question she frequently asks me on these nights. I can only assume that it is her attempt to make small talk, to spark a conversation. It is not needed; but I humor the thought anyway, and reply to her query.
"I am pondering, Wanda," I begin my reply to her query. "I am pondering about what it is to be human, as well as the nature of my existence and my purpose in this life." I then take a moment for a brief pause in what I have to say. I then segue into a query of my own, one in which I too, know the answer to. "Could you not sleep again, Wanda?"
"Ah, yes. Is it that obvious?" she asks with a chuckle escaping between her words. She breaks her eye contact with me, glancing at the ground in an attempt to hide her embarrassment of being "caught." It is not an uncommon occurrence for Wanda to have trouble sleeping. During these times, it is also not uncommon that she seeks my company when this occurs. I do not mind, as it means that she prefers my company over the others, which is similar in how I prefer hers over theirs. "Yes, I have had trouble sleeping, again," she continues, her gaze returning to meet mine. "I keep having these terrible dreams. Nightmares." This is also not an uncommon occurrence for her since I have met her. "Everyone else is sleeping, so I thought I'd join you out here. If that is okay?"
As she says this, her arm hooks into mine. I glance down and witness her placing her head and resting it against my arm. My brow perks for a moment as I find this to be a curious action. This is not a common behavior. It is now apparent that she wishes to be comforted. Her dream must have disturbed her greatly. I am unsure how to respond as I am mostly unfamiliar with affection. This is a subject I am still studying and learning about.
"Of course, Wanda," I reply. "Your company is always a welcomed occurrence." I look down upon her as her gaze falters and focuses elsewhere. "Do you wish to speak of these dreams?" I ask.
"No," she answers me, as her gaze turns to the heavenly display above us. "Not really. I'd rather just stargaze, with you."
"Very well," I say with a slight nod. "As you wish."
We spend the next hour just gazing up at the upper atmosphere. It is not long before our standing position transforms into a horizontal one, laying upon the grass that was once at our feet. I do this as I know it is more comfortable for her, especially since I also know she is tired and requires rest. It would become tiresome for her to crane her neck in such a manner for such an extended period of time. As we lay on the empty field upon the cool turf beneath us, I catch her taking glances towards me. I do not react, as I know it will embarrass her. She says nothing. I inquire once or twice if the silence between us bothers her. Each time it is confirmed to me that it is not. Eventually she falls into a slumber, her arm draped over my chest and her head resting upon my shoulder.
I carefully pull myself from her, carefully to not disturb her slumber and stand. I then kneel down and pick up her limp, dreaming form and hold her close as I float and bring her back into the Avengers Facility. I am going to place her back in her bed so that her sleep would be more pleasant and restful. Her blankets warming her would be a much more suitable than the coolness of the night's air. As I carry her, I ponder to myself at the nature of my friendship and interest in Wanda.
Why is it that I am always drawn to her company? I ask myself this as I find it quite puzzling. Considering all the others I have come to know and call friend, it is her company I prefer. It is a query that puzzles me. I am not sure why this is so as we share very little in common. She is a creature of what some have called "magic" and I am born of science. I prefer thinking as she prefers activity. The thought then dawns upon me. Perhaps it is because she is the most human individual I have ever met so far in my short life. This offers a uniqueness that is held over all the others. Perhaps it is for this reason that I am so drawn. It all makes sense now. Due to my aspirations to become more human, and her very being is the epitome of everything I desire makes a logical conclusion as to why I am so fascinated by her.
A smile cracks over my lips as I enter her living quarters. It is a show of my satisfaction at the answer I have discovered amid the mystery I have been puzzled with for quite some time. I place Wanda down upon the mattress of her bed. I then remove the shoes that cover and protect her feet. She will not need them as she dreams, and they will only prove to be a discomfort to her in rest. I then take her blankets and cover up her slumbering form so that she will not become chilled as the night goes on. As I leave, I am sure to check that the lights are all turned off, as they are not required at this hour.
"Good night, Wanda," I whisper softly, as if to not wake her. "May your dreams be pleasant and your rest rejuvenating." I then phase through the walls, back outside. I think to myself about how pleased I am to have Wanda Maximoff in my life. She is special. She is my friend. She is my best friend. She, like me, is unique. "Good night, Wanda," I whisper softly, as to not wake her. "May your dreams be pleasant and your rest rejuvenating." I then phase through the walls, back outside. I think to myself about how pleased I am to have Wanda Maximoff in my life. She is special. She is my friend. She is my best friend. She, like me, is unique.
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05/08/2019 03:42 PM
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For Her - Mr. Freeze
For Her His crimson tinted gaze fell upon the glittering diamonds covered in broken glass that sparkled under the florescent glow of the store's fixture lights. Dr Victor Freeze wore a somber expression across his visage as he began to lose himself, his morality wrestling with the decisions that lead to this moment. It didn't matter what his conscience told him, as it was too late to turn back and return to his simple, dismal life. As the angel that had sat on his shoulder shouted only to be silenced by his determination, Victor couldn't help but feel a wave of remorse for what he was about to do. The shrill, piercing sound of alarms blared, penetrating his battling thoughts of what was right or wrong as he stared at the precious gemstones.. This was not what he wanted, but it was a means to an end and he was determined to see his objectives met, no matter what the cost. He needed to feel whole again, he needed his world to once again be right. Victor's struggle with this duality that existed inside him was not one he had to face in his life. Before this, before becoming who he was in this moment, Victor considered himself a relatively honorable citizen of Gotham. He never wanted to be on the wrong side of the law and found himself fearing the thought of going against what society deemed morally wrong. He feared even entertaining the mere thought of doing something so misconstrued, as doing anything such brought back memories of being punished by his loveless father. This fear kept him from taking that step from the morally righteous side until his life took a turn for the worst only just after he had a taste for what a life filled with bliss could feel like. His short-lived happiness was taken from him faster than it had taken him to feel such warmth. He wanted that happiness back as the chill of his hopeless melancholy threatened a return. For much of Victor's life, he had felt nothing but the empty pit of loneliness and misery. His parents, not knowing how to deal with him as a child, neglected and ignored him. They refused to foster any of his interests and the only reinforcement they seemed to give him was negative to punish him when he was deemed to be. The young Victor could only find solace and affection from the tame wildlife and neighborhood pets that surrounded his home. Fearing the only kindness and attention he received would be gone forever he took to encasing some of the smaller animals and insects in ice, keeping them frozen and preserved in the basement freezer. It did not take long for his parents to discover this innocent, yet horrific practice. Fearing their child was too much of an oddity and would bring unwanted attention and give them a reputation, they sent their only child away to a boarding school. Though the school offered Victor a new beginning and more opportunities than he was privileged to before, he quickly became an outcast. His social awkwardness and insecurities made him an easy target that the cruel, richer boys preyed on. Victor once again found himself alone, this time only with his studies to keep him occupied and entertained between his sessions of torment and ridicule. He excelled at his school work and upon graduating he was accepted into Gotham University's medical science program. There he furthered his knowledge into cryogenics and its applications. It was also there that his depressed existence blossomed into something else, as it was there he met and fell in love with a ballerina, his future wife, Nora. Nora was a beacon of hope for the forlorn Victor. She was the pleasant warmth in a world of frigid bitterness which was all he had known before. With her, he felt seemingly cured of all his anxieties and troubles that plagued him before. Upon receiving his doctorate, the two wed and Victor, for the first time in his entire life, felt whole. This happiness was only a facade as Nora was soon diagnosed with Huntington's disease, a rare, incurable, and fatal genetic disorder that gradually kills brain cells. This, only coming days after his hiring at the Gotham City Science Laboratories soon became Victor's drive. His revolutionary developments in the field of cryogenics earned him great recognition, but his breakthroughs were not coming quick enough as Nora's health declined sharply. With no other viable options, Victor secretly brought Nora to his lab and froze her, to preserve her before her state worsened. His transgressions were soon discovered and one night, while working late, a Gotham City Science Laboratory security team was sent to his lab to escort him off the premises for he was to be terminated and his experiments were to be shut down. During this incident, there was an accident as a cryogenic generator ruptured and cryogenic coolant fluids engulfed Victor and the security team. While the guards did not survive this chilling encounter, Victor was transformed, changed at his chemical level. The cryogenic fluid fused with his flesh, which caused his body's temperature to drop dramatically. He now could no longer survive in temperatures above sub-zero. Hiding out in an abandoned warehouse in the Docklands district, once purposed for cold storing fish from the now obsolete fishing industry of Gotham, Victor continued his work. There, in the decaying innards of the once fish filled refrigerated storehouse, he constructed a new chamber to sustain his beloved. He also fashioned an armored cryogenic power suit to house himself so that he may survive outside of his necessitated refrigerated lair. It not only protected him from the heat of the outside world, but it also increased his strength, as it was required for his mobility. It was after the forging of this that his life began the downfall into criminal activity. In his invention of this mechanical casing it required massive amounts of power, ones in which his funding was not able to continuously sustain. Requiring the use of diamonds to power his cryo-suit, he struggled with his eventual decision to turn to the life of crime. Victor's logic told him that in order to survive his morality must be sacrificed for he was not only fighting for his survival, but also for his beloved and he needed her. Fabricating himself a weapon that used his cryogenic coolant as a means to stop those that opposed him, he began his first heist on one of the many jewelry stores that populated Gotham's shopping districts. He didn't want it to come to this but he found himself in a position that had no other alternative. This was to be his life now. "Hey!" an authoritative voice shouted over the shrill klaxons bringing Victor back to his present situation. "You there! Uh . . . Hands up!" The once revered scientist turned in the direction of the voice, his solemn visage not breaking as he now gazed upon the riot gear clad Gotham Police officer who raised a gun, pointing it directly at Victor. Other officers began to flood the entrance of the shop that Victor had forced himself into. He then slowly turned himself completely standing at attention, his massive armor was an intimidating sight for the law enforcement officers. Their anxieties upon seeing this massive figure began showing as they all raised their rifles unsure of what to make of this. Though not completely uncommon to find criminals of Gotham wearing such lavish and ridiculous attire, it was not common to see them clad in mechanized armor. "I said, hands up . . . And freeze!" the officer repeated himself, his voice muffled by his riot helmet. A slight curl at Victor's azure shaded lips appeared, as he could not help acknowledge the irony of that order. That nearly undetectable smirk, however did not last long, as his goggled gaze fell for a moment as he was about to commit himself to a life of misdeeds he never envisioned for himself. His eyes became tear-filled as his thoughts drifted to his Nora. He now mourned for the final time for the person he was, as he would now never be that person again. A single tear broke from the dew that was forming and instantly froze at the corner of his eye as he whispered to himself. "Nora . . . I am sorry." Victor raised his cyro-gun, bracing himself for the recoil then fired upon the officers, now feeling nothing inside his now frozen heart. This is who he was now. This is who he needed to be. This is who he needed to become, for her.
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05/08/2019 03:16 PM
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To Love the Stars - Jane Foster
To Love the Stars
"Do you see those stars right there?" the mustachioed, man asked as he continued to kneel next to the brightly clothed, young girl who had only just the week prior had celebrated her fifth birthday. "The ones that look like a man, kneeling?" he continued, adjusting the wide framed spectacles that rested on the root of his nose.
"Yeah! I do!" the little girl, who was barely three feet tall exclaimed, her eye was pressed up against the eyepiece of the telescope she had been only recently been gifted. Her little hands were clasped together in excitement and held close to her chest as she stood next to the man who had given her favorite gift to her. She lifted her head, her little brown hued orbs matching up with the bespectacled one of the man as he pushed a few stray strands of her chocolate colored locks behind her ear, careful to not dislodge the red bow that had adorned them. He could not help but produce a chuckle as he saw the stars twinkle in her eyes as excitement danced across her expressive features.
"That one right there is called Hercules, the mighty demigod," he informed her as he watched her turn her gaze upwards, marveling at the sky that danced and twinkled above. He chuckled again as he turned his loving gaze towards the stars as well. "Do you see him?"
"Wow!" she exclaimed, amazement lacing her voice. "Herkales! I see him, Daddy, I see him!" She left her mouth agape as her twinkling eyes soaked in the summer night's sky above in an utter state of awe of the stories that were being told to her that, until today, she was unaware existed above her.
"Yes, Hercules" he said as another chuckle escaped him. His gaze fell from the night sky only for a moment to mentally capture her amazement before he began to retell the story of the Greek demigod as he knew it. "Now Hercules was the son of a mortal woman and an ancient Greek god, Zeus the immortal king of the Olympians. Because of this, Hercules was a half mortal man who was very, very strong."
"Stronger than you, daddy?" the tiny girl asked with bemusement, as her full attention was pulled back from the stars and on to her father. Until this moment, she didn't know of anyone stronger than her father, so finding out this fact was shocking to the young girl.
"Yes, yes, Sweetheart," he answered her, continuing to smile as he could not help but allow the corners of his lips to curl, for he reveled in his daughter's amazement. "He was much stronger than I could ever be, because he was half immortal, and I am just a mere mortal. Now when Hercules died, his father, the king of the gods, placed the part of Hercules that was immortal into the sky, right there, next to the dragon I told you about."
"Oh! Oh! Uh!" she exclaimed, as her excitement wiggled out of her. She knew this one, he had only just introduced the dragon constellation to her the other night. Her mind spun as her expression of excitement turned into one of puzzlement "Dray . . . Dray . . . Draco!"
"Yes!" he said returning her excitement. "You remembered. Good job!" He placed a hand upon his daughter's back, giving her back a small rub to congratulate her. "You are so smart, Janie."
Jane beamed back at her father as she could feel his pride flowing towards her with his words. "When I grow up, daddy, I want to be as smart as you!" she exclaimed excitedly as she told him her wish for her future. She admired her father immensely, and wanted nothing more in that moment than to be everything he represented to her.
"Janie, my dear," he started, gazing down upon her excited little self, "I hope you are smarter than I ever will be."
At that moment, the back door to their home opened up and a slender figure stood just in the door way and called out to them in a rather regal sounding tone. A slight English accent laced her words that traveled out to the night watching duo. "It's time to come inside. It's nearly Jane's bed time!"
The mustachioed father looked down upon his daughter as he rose to his feet, a bright and proud smile painted across his lips. "Come on, Janie," he said in an encouraging tone. "Let's go inside. We can look at the stars again tomorrow night before you go to bed.
"Okay," she said in a semi-disappointed tone as she would rather learn more about the spectacle that lived above her in the night sky, rather than dream about them. "Can we have ice cream?" she then asked as the idea snuck its way into her head to not only prolong her bed time, but to spend more time with her beloved father.
Her father chuckled again at his daughter. "Let's go ask your mother, okay?" he replied to her, as he knew he could never say "no" to his daughter.
"Okay," Jane continued as she looked up once more to the stars that she was only just introduced to. "Good night stars! I'll see you tomorrow!" With that, she glanced at her father and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, giggling all the while into the Foster family home in a silent race with her father. This night will forever stay in her memory for it was the night she was introduced to the stars, and the night that she fell in love with them.
As the years went on, so did Jane's fascination with the stars. By the time she was nine years old, she could name all the constellations, when and where they would appear in the night sky, and all the stories behind how they came to be. She also had all the planets within the solar system memorized, how far they were away from the sun, and other interesting facts, such as the length of their orbit, or if and how many moons they had orbiting them. It was very clear to both her parents and all around her that this is what she had a passion for in life. She was to follow in her father's footsteps, researching what lay beyond the atmosphere of the planet. By the time she was a teenager, she had already begun to take the steps in turning her passion for the stars and spacial anomalies into a career choice. Her parents did nothing but encouraged her blossoming love of the stars and helped her plan the future path she was going to take to achieve her dreams.
During her later years of high school that her father, who sparked her love of the universe and all it's mysteries, succumbed to brain cancer, a secret he hid from his wife and only daughter. His reasoning for doing so was because it was inoperable, and he did not want his to suffer with him. He wanted their last memories with him to be happy and carefree ones, and not ones of a frail, sickly man slowly turning into a shell of his former self.
His death triggered something deep within Jane, a conviction that she was going to continue her father's work. She eventually went on to study at Culver University which was near her home town of Ravenswood, West Virginia. While there she studied under Doctor Erik Selvig, her father's closest friend and fellow colleague who had introduced her parents when they all attended Oxford together. He had taken over the Culver University's physics department after the death of Jane's father and under his tutelage, she became a brilliant student and she eventually earned her doctorate.
Culver, impressed with her studies and work offered her a chance to continue her father's work by offering her funding for a postdoctoral research. Using these new funds Jane soon found herself in Puente Antiguo, New Mexico which had become a hot spot of unexplained astrophysical activity. Taking her mentor, Dr. Erik Selvig, and a student intern, Darcy Lewis, with her she started to continue where her father left off in an attempt to understand what were the mysteries that were beyond the Earth. It was there in New Mexico that Jane would discover something other than answers to her life long questions. There, her life would change forever.
"Hurry up! I don't want to miss it!" Jane shouted as she climbed into the pinzgauer all terrain vehicle that she had purchased at a military surplus auction.
"Jane, we're not storm chasers, we're physicists," Erik grumbled as he climbed into the back of the vehicle. "Now I know I promised your father I would watch out for you, but I'm not sure this, whatever this is, is going to concern us. We deal with the stars, not storms"
"Erik, are you kidding?" she asked in disbelief as she held up a device of her own making that read the levels astrophysical particles. "The readings are off the chart! This could be the break through I have been waiting for, we have to do this. We have to get out there and document this!" She then leaned out the passenger window of the vehicle as she buckled herself in. "Darcy! Come on!"
"Okay, okay! Keep your panties on," Darcy muttered as she slowly made her way over to Jane's research vehicle, meandering as she did. "I had to make sure that the TiVo was going to record Once Upon a Time. I swear if I miss an episode, I'm going to be so upset."
Jane then shot Darcy a narrowed glance like daggers, shaking her head at her student intern as she could not comprehend the young woman's fixation on pop culture, for Jane buried herself too far into her work to even notice the changing world around her.
"What?" Darcy continued taking notice of Jane's never ending disapproval. "That show is kick ass. It's got magic, and fairy tales, and evil . . . "
"Darcy!" Jane interrupted as her patience grew short. "Just drive!"
"Fine, jeez, no need to get all excited," Darcy muttered in reply as she fastened her seat belt and turned on the ignition. With a jerk of the military grade vehicle she then sped off in the direction that Jane's readings were pointing, off to the middle of the remote desert where an unusual storm cloud began to form.
Jane then pulled out a camcorder and flicked the "On" button, powering the video capturing device and whispered to herself as she held it up, pointing it to the heavens above. "This one's for you dad . . . This one is for you."
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03/21/2018 03:46 PM
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Untitled
Untitled I have a fantasy. This is a fantasy I have with you. Is it the first time we meet? Is it the second? Or is it the hundredth? That does not matter. What matters is we meet. I can see you. I see you from across the way. Other bodies separate us. A sea of people between where the other is. Our eyes meet. I can feel your energy surge through me. A smile breaks your lips. That smile is like a sunshine. It lifts the clouds in my heart and warms me from the inside. I cannot help but smile back. A grin that I have not had upon my visage in quite some time. We dart towards each other, both excited for the other's embrace. I want you. I want nothing else but you in this very moment. To feel your arms around me and mine around you. Our bodies collide and we laugh. Your expression is that of pure joy and mine is of nothing but admiration for you. I can feel my eyes tear up, but I fight them back. My joyous droplets retain within my eyes as my forehead is pressed upon yours. Our hands instinctively cup each other's face. Finally, our lips touch as we share a passionate exchange. In our brief kiss, I can feel a spark leave through them and through your body as I silently express to you how I feel. As we part from this embrace, my fingers interlock with yours. It feels right like this is how they belong, what they were made for. I give your palm a squeeze within our shared grasp, once more signaling to you my emotions. I cannot help but allow this wave of joy to wash over me and engulf my very being. You bring me a happiness I once thought I lost forever. We then walk. We walk talking about whatever topic comes to mind. We talk about our day, our hopes, and our dreams. It is a pleasant conversation. I can't help but feel giddy while I am with you. We finally make it to an open field, a park. We exchange mischevious glances. Troublesome smiles take hold of our lips as we take off in a dead run. We take turns chasing the other around in a playful expression of our courtship. It matters not who wins. Eventually, we fall to the grass. The turf tickling our exposed flesh as once again we explode with laughter. It is the truest and most beautiful expression of joy. Our laughter frees us of our cares, or worries, the darkness in our hearts. You mock my silly laugh, and I mock you back. You try to glare and frown at me, but you cannot. I triumphantly laugh once again capturing your image in a memory forever. I cannot help but feel safe within this moment. I gaze into your eyes and feel at home. I can feel an entire history of love filling my soul. Sitting up we lazily crawl over to a basket, it is filled with various treats and foods. We sit, filling our stomachs. Occasionally we feed one another. People take notice of us. Some are jealous, wishing they had what we have. Others upset at our public displays of affection. Some look on in admiration, happy for our happiness, finding joy in our sharing one another. I care not for what these others think. I just want this moment to last forever with you. The day turns into evening. We take to the town. Dressed to kill, we both look like a million bucks. We go to the theater for a show. A story unfolds in front of us and musical numbers fill our ears. I pay more attention to your reactions than what we had intended to see. Every twitch of your lips brings me joy. My hand cannot help but find yours, folding in once more, reminding me that this is what our hands were made to do. my thumb playfully caresses yours. I cannot help myself. Your presence brings it out in me, this playful nature that I once had. I feel like a child again, experiencing the world anew. We are now at home. Our tired and weak bodies find themselves upon the bed. I want you physically. I want to feel our hips buck up against one another in a rhythm that only lovers know. I want our naked flesh to be cooled by the night and the moans of pleasure to be the soundtrack of this dance of passion. But we do not. I would rather us just hold each other instead. We don't need to express our love such. I just want you close. Our bodies fit together like a puzzle. All I want to feel your warmth. I feel your heartbeat. I pretend it is only beating for me. I sing to you as you slowly fall into a slumber. My eyes close, capturing the image of you sleeping. A subtle smile splashed upon your lips. As I drift off to dream of you I can feel our souls merge and we are one. A perfect end to a perfect day. This is my fantasy. As the fantasy ends I feel the harshness of reality return. I feel the hot warm tears stream down my cheek as I can feel the cracks in my already broken heart pull apart once more. The hollow feelings return and the window to that happiness I lost closes once more. I will never get to be with you. I know this reality, but I can't help what my heart feels, what it wants. You fill my life with a sunshine of joy. Thoughts of you entertain my soul as I drone through my day. My thoughts will dwell on how you feel about me, and if you even think of me. I like to think you do, but it is a lie I tell myself, a lie I can't help but tell myself. I know not how you feel about me. A small part wants to know, hoping your feelings are similar to my own, but the rest of me doesn't want to know. The false hopes are what I take comfort in. Illusions of a fantasy that I toy with dance within my heart as I once again lead myself up for disappointment. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I cannot help myself. My untamed feelings and thoughts that dwell in and are guided by my heart do not listen to reason. We are but two ships in the night, passing through the waters. I know this is how it is and nothing more, but I will forever be thankful we got to share the ocean for that moment. It made me forget my ills. It made me forget the pessimistic views I have upon myself. I will carry this bitter-sweetness with me for the rest of my mortal coil. I will always remember you. I will remember your smile, your happy visage. Even though I am not near, no matter where I am in life I will look to the stars and I will listen and feel for your heartbeat. It may not be for me, but it will beat to let me know you are okay, let me know you are still here. I will take comfort in that at least. I hope you can feel mine back to remind you that you are loved, that you are cared for, and that you will always be special to me. For you have touched my heart and I will never forget, never. For this, I will forever remain thankful. For you provided me with a moment, a small brief moment, I was reminded what happiness was. That happiness was you.
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