Light up the Sky

n i n e t e e n

           Alvin

Three days after Maya's seizure.
I see Mr. Ramirez or Dev Sharma, return back to his American condo from India. Mrs. Ramirez was there but not seemingly to greet him- it was a compulsive entering that Mr. Ramirez had. Maya was brought back home that day morning, in a stretcher in the driveway and Mrs. Ramirez wheeled her in by herself, making sure that the IV wasn't holding back or leaking anywhere or getting entangled somewhere in the bushes.
I sent Maya a total of 213 texts but clearly there was no way she would respond, because in her position she would be bedridden and dazed under painkillers or whatever medication she was under.
I wanted her. All mine. Not possesively. Not aggressively. Lovingly. I know she wanted me. Well I hope she does.
I don't want to talk about me and her. Cheesy. Pathetic.

I loved her. One look, one conversation, one walk, one kiss, one person. I might seem selfish for wanting her to live as much as any other deserving sufferer like herself. But I couldn't see things after the world went black. She was the only one who had a lamp in that world. She was the only one in this world. I'm not falsely admiring her. Not her beauty or body or any bubbling characteristic of hers. Not any of the usual indicators that any high school boy finds in his homecoming afterparty fling. She is Maya. Her sickness doesn't define her, or my liking of her.
The cute paperplane that flew down her window concealing her number enriched her creativity and poetic affection.
Her similarity in my thinking, purity in language, or the smarty pants reviews she gave showed that she wasn't a pretend.
All I know is no matter how awkward and intense eye contact can be, but it wasn't we we shared one. It felt like eclipse where she could stand alive and I was able to see her stand alive.
Her vulnerability to the ironic thing she was in my life is why she is my soulmate.
She was the bright sun in my life.
There is no bright sun in hers.

                                                                  +                      +                      +

I knock on the Ramirezes' door.
Mrs Ramirez opens the door.

"Hello Mrs. Ramirez. I- I just wanted to meet Maya." I say holding out a box of Cottage Pie that I made with Grandma.
"Oh, hello Alvin. How nice of you to drop by.. Maya isn't in her best state but I think if you came with a purpose to meet her, I can't stop it. She is under meds so she might not catch a lot and lag in conversations. Intact if up you don't mind make sure she doesn't waste a lot of energy in talking..." Mrs. Ramirez says fluently.
"Okay Mrs. Ramirez. Thank you so much for letting me meet her."
I try to locate myself but bang onto the stair pole and I feel Mrs. Ramirez s eyes on me. I hold the railing and reach up the 1rst floor.
Her mom told me not to indulge Maya in any excursion, meaning if I say too much she will be compelled to answer back. I don't want it to harm her. But I want her to reply.
I open the door which has 'Maya' in curvy font on poster to see Maya on a huge bed on one side looking pale, dry and tired.
As her weak body lay there I couldn't seem to tell her anything. Sometimes you have instincts to complete something, like telling Maya that I love her, because I know from the looks of her that she is likely to not know my presence even.