Sunday, December 11, 2011

swinging to the stars


She sits on the swing. If I knew I would have told her to go home; it’s dangerous for a girl to be out alone at this time of night. But then again, who am I to tell her about what’s dangerous or not anymore? 

I have broken her heart.

She sits on the swing. It was one of those nights – it has just rained, but the skies were clear of clouds. The wet grass, the frosty air; it was beautiful in its cool serenity. She looks up, searching for her star.

Her star. There was always one star which was always there in the night sky, right beside the moon. The star was always there, bright enough to resist the insolent incursion of the city lights. It was always there even when its eternal companion, the moon, wasn't.

Her star was always there for her, even when no one else was.

She starts swinging ever so slowly now. Back and forth, back and forth. She closes her eyes as a midnight breeze caresses her face. What is she thinking? Could she be thinking about me? How we met? How we fell for each other? The first time she told me she loved me?

How it all fell apart?

Maybe she is just closing her eyes. Nothing more than that. And I am no one – a phantom who has been banished forever from her mind for what I’ve done.

She opens her eyes to find her star again. She finds it still there, twinkling comfortingly at her. If I was there I would tell her that she is just like that star; seemingly weak, seemingly alone – but secretly harboring enough strength to face whatever is thrown to her. And she is not alone, for it is in the darkest of nights that her companions come out to fill the sky.

She swings ever more rapidly now. A strange sight; a girl swinging in the dead of night. But she doesn’t care.

She is swinging to the stars. And she doesn’t need me to do it.



Work of semi-fiction.

Dedicated to a girl I once loved. A girl who will always have a place in my heart, despite the fact that I’ve broken hers. A funny, pretty, intelligent, blur-case who is brimming in quiet strength – even if she doesn’t know it. I am sure she will take this in her stride. I’m sure she already has.

Perhaps what I’m trying to say from all this is that I am sorry.