The silver haze that clung to the swaying grasses was nothing like the metallic glazes of his weeping eyes. There was nothing warmer than the quiet summer night, but the ice that coated every inch of his insides made the open space feel empty and deadened. Even the fruitful blackberry plants, teeming at every corner of the expanse, appeared to wither before and around him. It was as though the river of life and time had dwindled and evaporated, reduced to nothing in the face of circumstance. A part of him wished that the gentle breeze which enticed the grasses to sway would touch his life, a wish that it would carry him from this place and into the next life, if one existed. A wish that he could be carried to her, as he once was, in this very place. Perhaps that was why he had come – riding on a hope that, just maybe, her ghostly grace would descend upon him. Memories of the way the sun had set upon them so many days, of how the moon seemed to unite them best when the world was dark, memories of the way she would allow her mismatched eyes to fall when his words were spoken softly, gently…
They haunted him.
She was his beacon of guidance, the light that had shone upon the rusted remains of his icy, iron heart. She was the strength that coursed through his veins, the hope for something, for anything; she was everything, and would never be his. The burning love they shared had scorched them both, and even the months that had passed since they had embraced it that night beneath the protection of the ancient tree, hidden from the world, would not serve to undo the heartbreak. If anything, the days that had passed without her in them had unraveled the sling she had fashioned for his brittled soul. The thought caused his eyes to clench so tightly as his head fell defeatedly, and the man gasped for air to fill his empty, burning chest. The earth where he laid was dampened by the tears that fell, collecting between his forelegs in a puddle of sorrow. He had failed. He had failed himself, he had failed her. He could not save their love, or hide or protect it from the world that had ripped them apart. Try as he had in the shadow of their undoing, he had failed to keep his promise to never leave her side. If only he had been braver; if only he had been stronger; if only he were more than an empty man.
If only.
In a moment of anger, the dark masked creature would turn his gaze to the stars he had once said were shamed by her perfection. You lied to me! He would silently scream. The stars had offered them forever, had shone down upon their contrasting black and white forms with encouragement, and had lit the paths they had followed one another down time and time again. They even reminded him of her, no matter where in the world he was, no matter whom he was with…she was always there.
But she was not here - not when he needed her; not when he was ready to let the anger go; not when he aspired to accept the fact that she belonged to another, as she always had; not when the weight of the world was crushing him alive.
She was gone, and he was alone, drowning in the rapids that had broken everything they had together.</blockquote>