Where she ends and he begins

 

Her tears fall for reasons unknown.

She is sick of seeing. Of knowing. Of understanding.

She wants to rip out her eyes, because being blind, would be better than seeing through all the lies of the superficial people she is constantly surrounded by.

If she looks at one more person, she thinks she will scream.

And it scares her.

It scares her because she knows that if she starts, she surely won’t be able to stop. Because of everything that she sees day in day out, even when she closes her eyes the images remain. It never goes away. And the worst part is, when it’s in your mind, you can’t even walk away. It never stops, like a twisted melody on repeat; she will never be able to get away.

And it only gets worse, day by day.

Minute by minute.

She hates the fact that she cannot, she simply cannot control it. There is only one person who can help her; and that too is only sometimes, but even he cannot always be there.

She loves him.

Loving him has become a part of her, as important to her nature as simply breathing, sleeping and eating. Like an internal organ she cannot live without. She lives to love him.

He is everything to her, and the only one who understands the way she feels and why she feels it.

She never thought she would find out, where she ends and he begins. She has loved him for so long, it’s hard to believe, hard to accept, and hard to even just consider that she will have to, without a doubt, let him go. Because that’s what you do when you love someone, right?

The thought of never again seeing his familiar face is tearing her apart. He is the only one who she can bear to look at, to see into, because he is the only one who is not full of lies. There is no façade when she looks at him, only a face, filled with pure love, love so pure it blinds her with its intensity.

But she knows that it will only cause him more pain. Keeping him with her, by her side, to watch her slowly deteriorating as her sickness kills her slowly from the inside out. And how could she bear to cause him pain.

She has two options.

What do I do doctor?

You will have to tell him Anya. We must put you in an institute, and soon too. It is the only way to make sure you are safe and…

It’s okay doctor, just say it – to keep other people safe too.

I- Well-

I said it’s fine doctor. I will agree to being imprisoned in your ‘institute’ if it will keep him safe.

Sometimes when she wakes up she cannot remember who she is. It is more than frightening – it is absolutely terrifying. Until she recognizes something – anything, and it reminds her, for the split seconds that she does not know, she feels like she cannot breathe, suffocating in her unknowingness, the darkness of no memory.

They told her it will never get better. Today, the news was finally given to her. They know what she has now, and there is no cure, it is genetic they say, passed down from her parents, and she cannot escape it.

She can never escape it; when she thinks about it, she cannot breathe. And she cannot stop thinking about it.

She is so tired of seeing.

And it is all in her mind – she simply cannot escape it.

And there is no escape but one.

Death.

Her second option.

And they will not allow her it.

So now she must think of her future, stuck in an asylum. She will bear the loneliness, the pain, the asphyxiating claustrophobia, if she can think of him being happy, safe, free.

She will survive, she thinks; even if she has to lock her mind up inside a memory, watching on repeat as her conscious fades away.

And even as she fades, she will love him.

Because loving him, is all she knows.

 

 

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