There is an incessant flow of people in one’s lifetime. This is fact. We are never certain anyone will stay. Yet, we make plans of futures with friends of yesterdays and dream of nights in the arms of bodies long gone. We force them to stay and watch as they rip us apart in search of freedom. Time does not heal these wounds; it only numbs the pain.
I am writing this because today is the day that Tavee told me Tavee was leaving. I know it was not my fault but is it wrong to expect my own friend to always choose me. I know you expect this to be all about a love struck, love torn soul but it is not; at least, not in the cheap sense that love is taken for today. I have not placed my palms against Tavee’s chest. I have not seen the mysteries beneath Tavee’s garments. All these are irrelevant. We shared silence and that is more than enough.
I am writing this because I am tired of seeing Tavee in every face that I walk past. I am tired of hearing that sonorous laughter from the mouths of bawds and thugs. I am tired of feeling Tavee’s presence each time the wind caresses my skin. There is no greater torture than this; to be plagued with memories of a person long gone.
I am writing this because I do not want to have to think of the news of Tavee’s death today. I do not want to remember that someone’s perverse idea of fun ended Tavee’s life. I do not want to remember how helpless I felt when I saw Tavee’s lifeless body staring back at me with a fake smile. What could possibly have been so funny in death?
Words endure. Yet, the words that were left unsaid to Tavee will haunt me. I hear them mocking me when I close my eyes to sleep. They taunt me when I walk down roads filled with chatty souls. I have no one to say these to, so I write. These words still offer my aching heart no relief.
There is an incessant flow of people in one’s lifetime. This is fact. Today, I shared this pain with another. I stole a Tavee. I allowed the life force of another to flow from my hands and drip on the floor beside empty eyes. I watched as my own hands gripped his windpipe and refused to let go. I watched as I drove my blade wielding hand across his body, flaying his skin. In that moment, I let my ears savour the screams like I was listening to Tavee’s melodious humming. I do not blame Tavee. In that moment, I felt… infinite. Everything became clear. I will start again. Life will continue. There will be another Tavee.
Hey, thanks for getting to the end. I would really love if you’d leave a comment or two so I know what you think. Think of it as a Christmas gift to someone stuck in school over the holidays. LOL. Anyways, do have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! 🙂