Fragments

II.

 day two

 My dear,

 Today's the second day of being in a coma, I believe. It's hard to tell since I can't see anything, and I keep slipping back into the dark abyss, where my soul (I think) is detached from my body. In all honesty, I have no clue as to how much time has passed, really, since time seems to move much slower when there’s no one to tell you to rush; for all I know, it could have been four hours or four days since the accident. But today was special, so I see fit to count it as a new day.

 I've decided to write to you, in my head. Well, I guess it'd be more like thinking to you. When I wake up, I promise, the first thing I'll do is write these letters all down. Maybe that way I won't feel like I'm going crazy, like I am just creating letters to myself. And this way, maybe I won't feel so alone.

I felt your presence when you first walked into my room. Is that odd? Do you find it odd? I hope not. I still remember your entrance even now.

Your scent: it was something so unique that I still can't identify it. It was surprising to me, because Sophie always reeks of a new scent every day. You smelled like one of her more pleasant choices. I have no clue what it was called, but if I had to guess: 'eau de ocean'. It is how I imagine you to be: beautiful, wise, free, yet trapped by sleepless nights and deferred dreams. You are the ocean.

Your sounds: your footsteps fell softly when you walked towards me. They didn't hit the floor hard, yet I immediately fell in love with the firmness that you carried with each step. There were no signs of tentativeness; and that, dear, is what I admire most about you. I could tell, without seeing you that you always follow through, given your promises. Once you've made up your mind, nothing will stop you. I can tell by just your steps that you posses the traits I most highly prize. Determination. Strength. Gentleness. But just a few seconds after you saw me, you sighed a lovely, soft sigh. I wonder why?

Your touch: it was your soft, trailing, curious brushes of my skin that made me shiver inside. Your fingertips- soft, yet calloused by daily work. The side of your hand could only be described as silky, as it was worn down by hours of rubbing against a piece of paper. I presume that you are a writer like me, or, perhaps, an artist. Your long, silky hair brushed against my arm when you rested your forearms on my bed. I could tell, because I felt the bed pressure shift a little after I heard you move.

Am I going too far, to judge you by your sounds, your scent, and your touch? Is that odd? Do you find it odd? I hope not.

Don't worry, I know that all the traits I believe you possess are but my own assumptions. But somehow, you seem oddly familiar, like you were, perhaps, an old childhood acquaintance or a friendly neighbor I smiled at during my morning walks. So, these assumptions seem to me more like traits recalled from the back of my mind than a handful of outrageous guesses.

My only regret now is that I wasn't able to see you. If only I could have opened my eyes and taken in your beauty, I would be content. Content enough to accept the fact that you'd never see me in the way I think of you. I must look positively disgusting to you right now. I can't even breathe or eat by myself. How would I even take care of you?

 I wouldn't. I couldn't.

I wonder, how in the world is it possible to be so captivated by someone without seeing them or even speaking to them? Maybe it'd be possible, maybe if it was love at first sight. But I don't believe in love at first sight, and not only because I can't see you. So, then, what is happening to me?

These questions, I doubt I'll ever be able to truly answer them. Because I'll never wake up, never see your face, never speak, and so many more never agains.

I think I'll just quietly slip away, one day, into a silent, lonely oblivion without any more answers than I started with.

 ☾

It's freezing cold inside my body. I’m not sure if a thousand blankets and a roaring fireplace would help mitigate this kind of cold, because it’s an encompassing, ingrained chill I’m not sure will ever leave. Whenever I wake up, the coldness always jolts me wide awake. I should be basking in the warm, sunny days, instead of being trapped in a cold darkness. I’m not used to it, dear, having only ever lived in Hawaii and California. But with you, at least, I forget the cold.   

I must admit to you that your rather short, wordless visit has left me quite intrigued. But after my initial curiosity faded away, I’ve come to regret was I was thinking. Not about you nor my assumptions about your personality, because I still think I am right, but of my own feelings. For just a moment, you took my heart and my breath away, so fast that I thought (again, for just a moment) that I had fallen in love.

But now, all I want to do is groan ‘what in the world was I thinking?’ and bang my head on the wall. Stupid, stupid, brain. I’m pretty sure the effects of whatever medicine I’m on is messing with my head, or maybe it could be a blow I took to the head from the accident. I’m usually not this irrational. Not only that, I feel like I’ve achieved some kind of… peace. Well, I really don’t know what word to use, but it’s so much calmer – less chaotic- in my mind now.

There’s nothing to do but think and think and think and regret and ponder all the ‘what ifs?’, and I feel like I’m drowning inside a pool of thoughts deeper than I’ve ever thought before. This is what time brings, I guess. Yesterday night, a drunk driver crashed into my car, sending it spiraling out of control. Today, I realized I’ve been shattered into little fragments and I’ve lost all control over my life.

So here’s to getting better soon. Hopefully.

 From, Everett