Love
stretched the fibers within me taut, pulling me back to the center of this
fixed diameter circle. This feeling was a deep transcendental experience, for a
girl for whom love was the principal desideratum to happiness. These emotions
of fear and wonder were so often concomitant with my silence. Because I was unconsciously
drowning where I couldn’t be heard, or saved.
It
was like a pitiful boondoggle, its phantasmagorical vision being the
cornerstone of my heart, the sole motivation for my mind to realize it. I
played the game of choices, and it was like trying to solve a puzzle with all
the pieces laid face down. No direction, no plan.
Incontrovertible
to say, the vision obscured my rationality, and like mildew, it flourished
where it couldn’t be touched. But then I felt its guise disintegrating within
my veins, collecting at my heart as heavy dregs of a terrible drink. Its bitter
after-taste left on my tongue being the only alarm to jolt me from my drowse.
It
was as if a pianissimo had recrudesced into a fortissimo, so abrupt were these
emotions. Yet, it was a passionate andante in the middle, and a largo in the
end. Now, the heart-shaped box has broken. The music stopped playing a long
time ago. My heart is swimming in the clear water, as the broken pieces settle
on the ocean floor.
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