Things that disappear
She looks at her finger nails long with red nail polish, she wonders about the presumable filth beneath them, she has been cleaning and washing and sweating for a reason beyond her understanding. What is that all for now, no one will come, and she has bore the dirt for so long and only now she transfers that embedded dirt to herself. Under her finger nails at the bottom of her feet, the smell of sweat under her arm pits and…never mind. She sits on a chair that she detests so much being the same object that was the resting spot of both her mother and him. She tries to forget who held her on that same chair for so long and it was not him. He only rested his weight and hung his head and said some words that she didn't understand; he drank her tea, ate her cookies and touched her hands. He uttered the same words every time and she still didn't understand, beyond her tiny world, little existed and nothing made much sense. He was a different, difficult species for her, not because he was a man, sex didn't have a space in her recollection now; but because, he tried, he asked questions that she couldn’t answer. Plead for her peaceful heart to accept him, after all that has been and still she didn't understand. She had no reason to let him in, but something that same every Tuesday forced her to open the door and greet him leading his ambivalent path to the same chair. Every time she stood there not remembering where did she see that face; loving hands stretches for hers which she willing gives for few seconds feeling an up rise in her heart beat and wishes she wore her perfume; she slips her hands away and disappears in her own little realm for some time getting back with the tea and the cookies that she bakes every week for him not even knowing his name.
She lives alone, in that small flat… one bedroom, an entrance hall, a kitchen and a bathroom. One chair in that entrance where they sit… him and her mother. Her mother didn't last long like he did. She fell apart… she still pays the bill and sends her food and everything, but she just can't see her anymore. That sweet little girl, that once was the flower of her life and a youthful dream, she saw everything she wished herself could have done in that girl. She wanted to see her turn into a woman but that dream only lasted for as long as a blink of an eye. She has an ache, in her heart … in her belly where that girl lived what now is the most peaceful time. That mother says she gave it all and she probably did. But all the same, so what. It's not her who stays like a fried potato not capable of comprehending what the hell she is. She is a girl, that is pure biology but what is beyond that. What is left to her to feel, futile is her life that may seem. But her mother says she wants her to understand it is not her fault. It's nobody's fault…it's just fate or something like it. Does it even matter what happened. Would that make any difference? She just disappeared in her little mind. Nobody understands. She just left the world and all what they say glory and casted it out of her life. Things disappear and so did she.
That beautiful angel has disappeared leaving behind her a no man's land. Leaving a disgrace in the heart of those who don’t understand how it feels to be smashed out of your own life. And anguish in the heart of those who also don't understand but still wish they did, he wished he did and wished it was him and not her. He wished he could smell her hair ones more and get a grip of that fading smell but he knows… he is damn sure it would not be the same. She is not the same, not a replicate, not a memory but a shadow or a ghost. He wished she was a sleeping beauty, he would have woke her up with a kiss or a million more, but she wouldn't even let him touch her. He gets a touch of her hand every Tuesday but that s all what he is allowed. A touch a week with that newly learned habit of baking cookies that he does not even like but mow with them crushing in his mouth just because she smelled, touched and looked at them. Even her tea is not the same; she puts too much sugar as if sweetening his time with her. They don't know why he comes every Tuesday. They used to hate that day, but everything is nothing anymore. Every dream and wish is turned against its will in means of figuring out a meaning or sense in what is nothing but nil. He comes on Tuesday and that is the only day she feels him. The rest of the week is like a long sleep for her, although… she never sleeps. Nobody knows that or what she spends her time doing, she does not know either. Leaving the wide allies to narrow streets of hazard dreams wishing things were a little easier, that the duplicity of sheer beautiful innocence and the disdainful meanness would make sense. He thinks she must be thinking of something… maybe she just does not love him anymore, but she does, she must do. Even if she doesn't know it, it shows, she has an aura around her that glows when she sees him. But so what, he doesn't see her on any other regular day and she doesn't know it.
She is a fairy tale. But can she speak for herself… can she say how she feels, that she is not a she-wolf and not a vampire or a slayer, she is not looking for heaven, not even mercy.. She knows what it means to rest in peace, but she is in peace, she does not know where pain comes from or why or even when. She misses the woman who used to come here but only on Wednesday the day she used to come in. Maybe if they knew how the days made sense only when they come they would have made an effort to make her happy. But do they even understand happy. She is not sad, because she doesn't have these feelings anymore; she is on eternal drugs of nothingness and she … she well she probably knows it, deep down inside her, she must must know it.
What if she does not, what if she is suffering? What if this ignorance of the world around her is not a blessing but a curse? She once said that aiming at the world is much of a curse as a blessing. What if this nihility is a curse? Would she know it, does she suffer, he would definitely want to know, her mother would definitely want to know too and her unborn child would wonder where she is when they take it away. She screams that is for sure only so her oval belly like that entrance would crack out of her sensitive voice. But she does not know why she screams. She falls down, down, down, and gets up dizzy, but not angry, tired but not for herself, for it that is inside. She feels it but doesn't understand, she never did. She touches her belly and feels it; she smiles but forgets it when it burns the pee. How will they get it out of her they don’t know, she doesn't even understand that it needs to get out. Why don’t they just keep it in. if it was her choice she would have stayed in. But is it a nice thing. He doesn't talk about it; he doesn't even look at it. He fears it actually. He knows it's his but what should he do with it. Give it away maybe or raise it up or come and stay with her.
Enough with the baby they thought but they would not take it out of her, they thought it might restore her back to sanity. Does she want their sanity back, they probably would never know. She is not dead, not dead, not alive but not dead. She is breathing but she does not sleep and merely eats when she feels it's hungry. She does not perform the exact act of prayer but she has an art of praying a humming mantra that lulls it to sleep. She probably has a certain feeling towards it. The beauty and the beast. She feels it and it does make her happy; sitting on a corner rocking herself and touching her belly. But she would forget about it if or when they take it out. She might rock herself and touch herself, but without any recognition that there was something beyond her physical reality out there to share her world.
Leaving an absent minded girl wouldn't make a difference in anybody's life but hers and her child. He and maybe her mother's would maybe suffer, but still does it matter, they suffer for her and she does not even know them or herself; would it make any difference, she should forget about them and even her Tuesdays would get back to nothing beyond cookies making even if he didn’t come, she would be alone but wouldn't even care about … she has always been alone. She finally did it; she did it and died; giving it to them. She lost all touch with the world the curse and the blessing. It is over, she is no longer there. They took it away and called it after her. Hope.