Before I Disappear

Have you ever felt lost in a realtionship? When your feelings demand for one thing but fate pulls you towards the completely opposite side? Felt the reality of being torn into several fractures? Some depicting what is, others signifying what could be?

It happens. You feel so much affection for someone till it hurts. Which its not supposed to. It shouldn’t hurt..

I have felt that… I have always wanted to write about it but never quite found the words.

Someone else did. Oreuluwa Fakorede did. He wrote this…

​What if all we have is now?

Some loves last a lifetime, others as long as they were meant to.

The fault is not your own. Even I could not have loved myself enough to make me stay.

I look back at your struggle to keep the parts of each other that found each other together and I wish all the air in the world was glue, and that, somehow, we remained inseparable.

But some parts go rogue. They always do.

Blame it on dissatisfaction, on greed, on the inherent fickleness of fallen man, on anything, just not yourself.

Until the very moment that hell engulfed the world mimicking the paradise you had pictured, you were an angel. Mine. And even now, as flames lick the now-desolate hallways of what used to house an enviable love, the smoke cannot blacken your glorious wings and the ground is still blessed by your feathery footfalls.

That is the image of you I choose to carry with me everywhere, talismanic and terrible in its ageless beauty.

Not so I do not forget you (an impossible thing), but so I remember the version of you that brought me the most happiness, a pristine piece of a beautiful past to serve as a comfort howbeit small.
Life can be cold, a long walk in glacial temperatures.

But I chose the frigid loneliness.

It’s not the same with you.

You will not be alone forever, I promise.

You will find something not quite like ours but close enough for the resemblance to move you to tears; almost there yet too far to be the real thing.

(One cannot replace a fire-breathing god with the finest idol of pure gold, or pretend that a shallow pool of even the clearest water is fair substitute for the ocean.)

It will warm you, but only barely. It will comfort you, but only for a while. It will keep you alive, keep you living half a life.
Your hollow heart will keep beating, each feeble thump a feverish cry for yesterday. But yesterday will always be beyond reach.

So before I disappear, lest this nightmare come to life, hold me without holding back.

Love me like I love you: desperately, as if we had a few seconds of togetherness before an eternal severance.

(Know that for every time I say that I love you, my soul says it louder and with far greater feeling, so listen with yours.)

Leave everything behind and come away with me.

Remember how to be purposefully irresponsible, how to forget everything for each other, for the priceless memories we make from stolen time.

What is perfect?

A blurry photograph of you, the artificial light of the camera’s flash glinting off your teeth like the blinding luminosity of a miniature supernova.

Who needs perfect, the flawless kind?

Those perfect things are scary.

Lay out your flaws and lie beside me.

Break with me and stay broken, my fragments matching yours as we attain resplendence in our mutual imperfection.

See how we fit together?

Hear the world sigh with envy, watching us delighted by ourselves till one of us is hauled away by the inevitable end and the other swiftly follows (because what is the moon without the earth?) without waiting to find what it is like to fall into the nothingness of space when the gravitational pull is gone.

If I disappear, let it be with you.

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