I have always seen love as this procedure. procedure. No matter how many I go through; through; they share structure and form. Long-distance or too little distance, it’s never worked out. In the end all we have is a maelstrom of emotions, needless drama. It always ends that way, and when it does; we cut each other o. ven as !friends", in the end we are e#’s and and nothing else. $hen, $hen, onto the ne#t. % cycle of elimination. elimination. &ut in light of all of this, there was one who showed me more a'out love, than any other. (he was the )fth. (he was the *acemaker. Like candlelight cast into the storm, she could vanish at any moment. moment. Interestingly Interestingly enough, she had had multi-coloured multi-coloured eyes, sometimes I felt like I was dating two people, two in one. (he was the duality. +hen her eyes tinted with am'er, I might have known that I made a mistake. &ut )nd me the 'est attorney in the world, and he would 'e 'ut a purr to her lion’s roar. ondemned, I would 'e e#iled to the wooden oor as the sheets struggled to contain her wrath. &ut like a child awoken from a nightmare, when midnight struck she would crawl up to me. %nd with a whimper and a nudge, would wake me, hesitantly whisper an apology and stare at me with wide, 'lue eyes. It was shattering. lashes of 'lue and red were emanating through the streets. ach pulse of light gave me a glimpse of her stricken features; eyes locked shut, her mouth 'egging for air and her 'ody writhing as if possessed. /er convulsions separated our hands and the cold, metallic doors of the am'ulance sealed her in. +eeks passed 'efore my phone rang, the vi'rations on the ta'le echoing in my cramped room. % stern voice told me of her condition, sta'le. &ut with the good comes the 'ad. (urgery. /ospitals were an enigma to me; I never had any reason to visit. I had always thought of them as the purgatory purgatory to the graveyard, 'ut in the )rst time in ten years, I prayed that day. *rayers, which had long 'een forgotten in my days of atholic school. *rayers not spoken since my worship of the arti)cial, no silent e#changes 'etween me and /im. $he 0od that I had forsaken, forsaken, cast away away in my teens for the angst and drama. I called to him in desperation, hoping and hoping. $he hospital hallways were stark and plain; walls 'leached and sterili1ed. No stains, no rust or peeling paint. I had imagined hospitals to 'e the necropolis, like a factory for
corpses. In. 2ead. 3ut. &ut here no doctors patrolled the hallways, they stood da1ed and tired. In charge of lives, they had let too many e#pire. $he unappointed guilt scarring their faces. $hey weren’t the reapers who decided who lived and who died. $hey are ones who shouldered the 'urdens of many. $he wards were dim and solemn. % mi#ture of groans and shu4ing muted my thoughts. 5ows of curtains stood guard 'etween the patients, con)ned to their 'eds and una'le to escape. ach patient was smothered 'y intensive care, some looked desperate to reach the end, 'ut the sycophantic nurses nurtured them 'ack to health. (he was sitting when I got there, empty stares to empty walls; longing for a window or some glimpse of anything 'ut her prison cell. $urning ever so slightly she acknowledged me with a nod, her damp cheeks glistening under the light. (he averted her eyes in a vain attempt to conceal her sorrow. &ut with red lines crawling at her pupil, those 'lue eyes framed every single drop of pain. (he had known for a long time. $icking and ticking, in every sense of the word she was a time 'om'. I met her in the hospital yard, she was 6ust a pair of legs dangling over two skinny wheels. /er skin was lighter, pale like the walls of the ward, 'ut who knows if it was her heart or her guilt that drained the life out of her. +hen she told me, I was trapped. &etween love and 'etrayal she forced me onto the fence. &ut in her apologies, her pleading, the endless 'arrage of !sorry". I found answers. (he had a year 'efore the incident. &ut her sel)shness was not driven 'y spite or malice; there was no intention to cause me pain. I was her doll, she used to whisper her secrets to her toys at night. In me she found solace and through me found acceptance. Love wasn’t the two-way street, it wasn’t give and take. Love was our shared e#periences, shared fears, shared happiness and shared passion. /er last was me, there was no !ne#t". It wasn’t something that she gave up on when things stopped working. $here was no cycle. %nd to the very last drop in her hourglass. +ith her heart 'eating on a at line. $o the silence of her 'urial. +e shared more precious days, hours and seconds. &ut I was alone at her funeral. &lack suit, 'lack tie. &earing gifts7 &lue orchids.
