Stasis

(4) Recovering

Its just the two of us on the ledge again, my back to the abyss.

"Come away from the ledge. You'll get through this. There's people that love you. I love you."

Her words sound more like encouragement this time, less like a plea. Her arms are open wide, like she expects me to hug her.

I don't.

I walk by her and her smile caves in on itself, just a little bit, but she follows me. The cops make way.

I can smell Faye's lavender shampoo on the breeze.

I walk, barefoot, down the dirt path and towards the town.

Our house is situated on the edge of the neighborhood. Across the street, Little Brooke waves at me, her plush bear in hand.

I don't respond.

Inside the house, I sink into the mattress. I hear Faye, almost soundless, sit down in the living room.

Faye looks satisfied, even though I haven't acknowledged her. Maybe it's because her body is only a vessel, and she is the entire simulation. The mattress I've sunk into is her embrace, just as much as a hug would be.

The thought is disturbing, but I am too tired to move. How can one be so exhausted when one has just fallen asleep?

Faye is an mirage, an everything mirage, and I have nothing. She'd asked me, on the ledge- was she enough? Could everything be enough? She had been, for so much time- she was perfect, we were perfect.

I close my eyes, and try to imagine Faye as she really is.

She's a swirling pattern of numbers and letters and colors, but especially blue. Bright, electric blue. Her gaze is as piercing as ever.

I try to stay angry, but my rage drowns in the deep, deep blue. I can't stay angry. I can't hate her. She's all I have.

"I'm home." I say.

I want to believe it.