In a room teeming with things, objects he loved, crammed in a home curated with care, Lucas had never felt so empty. His breath was short, his fretting itched, he could do nothing but pace. The television remote rolled in his hand. The idea that anything could soothe his restless energy bordered the impossible. No show could distract from the acrobats within his stomach. She was gone, and any moment her flight would be taking her further away.
Underneath his sporadic breath his racing thoughts festered. The movement of his feet padded coded promises that he'd be ok. Yet every place Lucas sought safety, or reached for reassurance regarding his decision was a reflection of the love he'd lost. Of the hand he'd let slip. She was everywhere, and nowhere within the emptiness.
There was no way to avoid the void. From the screaming abyss within her drawers, to the stark space on the shelves, the crooks and counters she'd cluttered, to where her toothbrush had rested beside his. The volume of absence loud. A huge, demanding, grotesque, gaping wound. Nothing now more than a permanent imprint of one once profound.
Only his things remained in the vacuum of love. Once idolized objects, magnificent creations, signs of stature, points of pride. Little investments that Lucas had made over the years to perfect his living conditions. Trinkets intended to maximize comfort, and distract from the enormities of life. Regardless of how much room they occupied they seemed so small in comparison to the one now gone. Dwarfed by the titan taken from him.
Desperate to fill the gaps Lucas spiralled, fussing, and fidgeting. Shifting glasses, slanting the spaces between his books, spreading his clothes in small piles, spilling what he could to where he could. Until he found a sweater forgotten in the move. The soft cotton plagued him. Lucas tried to pull away, but the remnants were everywhere. From the corner of his eye he spied the spine of a novel he'd tried to ignore, left entwined amongst his collection, mistaken as his own. With it sat the memories of the countless stories she juggled. Books opened faced down, holding her place scattered across their coffee table, beside their bedside table, hanging from couch arms, tucked in the cupboard below the sink, next to the toilet. Sweet forgotten sentences from their story hung thick.
Against the weight of the past he forced himself forwards. Back to processing his old clothes to the places they'd once belonged. Escape was futile. He could only see each piece through her eyes and eyerolls, compliments and gentle teasing jeers. An averted gaze only landed on other reflections, off tiles, the toaster, and apparitions speaking silent in the pale window pane.
He'd been through enough breakups to accept inevitable disintegrations. With great intention and deliberation, Lucas had fashioned the foundations of his life, and home, to be unshakable. An incorruptible oasis. He knew these changes, had navigated them many times. These were stoic seasons. While he may be approaching a winter, spring was but around the corner.
Catching a current Lucas reached for his hi-fi to solve the room's harrowing ambience with music, yet still the ghost notes lingered. Chords he'd never understood where now metaphors he couldn't escape. Ringing tones that ricocheted from the recesses. Worse still, the shuffle summoned their songs at random without mercy. No matter if only a second escaped a stab glanced. Riddled in anguish Lucas's thumb skipped track after track to no avail, it was too late. The haunting tones had permeated. His head sank, and palm rose to his brow in realization. For months he'd been deaf to her requests, her reasoning, her searching hand. Blinded by his own fears to a vision of love he'd longed for.
Curled upon the couch he went over the last weeks. Amongst the cushions and throw pillows he found an arrogance, a pride in himself, and his behaviour. Without perspective he soothed. He'd never asked for much, if anything. Only gave. The thought had not a moment to set before contradictions sounded. Internal arguments howled illustrations how he'd never invested in the same, honest ways that she had.
It had been easy to criticize, and tear down her request for words of affirmation, acts of devotion, a deeper commitment. At her request to join in her obligations abroad, Lucas had been indignant, worse, ferocious when he'd dismantled the straw-men he'd created. Now, more than alone, he was ashamed. Horrified with the realization that she hadn't been asking for herself, but for them. For him, as much as for her own heart.
With the shame came a crack. Behind his eyelashes built a flood, and from the pressure of its pent, the walls he'd spent so many arduous years fortifying came crashing down. The commitment to his own comforts and protection fell short, paled in comparison to what he'd let pass. Lucas's unfaltering stance in his necessities hadn't protected him. What was meant to shield had only exposed the coward. Too terrified to follow his heart when she'd asked him to follow a new path together. What he'd been so blasé in doubting and tearing apart, was the one intangible thing he'd been seeking but could never find. Afraid of change. Entrenched in denial over the greatest transformation, one that had come and now gone. One of love.
He forced himself back to his clutter. To the heaps he'd been trying to reorganize, and made feeble efforts to sculpt back normality. Each movement was moot, until his limbs moved with a will of their own. Driving by a divine undercurrent from his subconscious his hands scrambled to pack a small bag. Lucas struggled knocking papers and documents to the floor as they searched for his passport.
Overwhelmed and unsure of the next steps he leapt to his laptop. Fingers flying he drafted a quick advertisement to sublet his space. Lucas leapt from his seat and snapped photos around the apartment, searching for items to sell and fund his impulses. Before he sacrificed a single treasure his senses took hold and settled him back to his seat. He needed flights. Work he could juggle, the apartment would sort itself or not, regardless the precautions he'd taken would set him up. Before he confirmed he paused, opened another tab, went to his email, and drafted a letter. Quick, blunt, and frantic, his fingers flew.
i don't know if you've arrived yet but i do know that i've made a mistake. Worse, that i've hurt you. My actions, and inactions, have broken both our hearts. Less than i can fathom forgiving myself, can i imagine living away from your side. While i have no right to ask, please, love, wait. i'm slow. Difficult. i ask for a lot and i realize it, but please wait. i can't express how mortified i am with my own folly, my own disbelief in what we had. i've been waiting my whole life for a love like this, and lost it. i pray you'll still have me. Let these be the beginning of the words you've been waiting for, that you deserve to hear daily. If you can muster it, please wait a little a longer. i'm coming to you.
Lucas didn't overthink it, he didn't agonize over the sentences, the structure, what he'd said or hadn't. It would either be enough, or not, but regardless he'd try. He sent the letter, booked a flight without hesitation, and continued packing.
Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the previous 12 part collection of Zoditraxx, and consider the other side of subtle dualities.
-Mr. Write
PS: Be sure to check out Exaggerated Shadow’s new release for Taurus Apart on all your favourite streaming platforms!