seasons

16: opulence

Song: Liability by Lorde

I had left Sicily in a cabin near Canada more than a year ago.

As her cries rang into the night and her body shook in the confines of what used to be, I found a way to piece myself together. I picked up my shattered heart and fractured mind. I felt mended but not whole while my soul stayed locked in madness, drowning in her self-hatred.

I know it seems counterintuitive but I had to leave her alone in that cabin.

I know it seems like I don't love her, but I haven't loved anything more than I love Sicily, not even Rea.

The thing about love and life is the give and take of it all. Think of it this way: you can give or you can take. That's really all there is to life. 

At some point, Sicily started taking my life from me. My sanity slipped slowly out of my head like the water of the creek by Midnight Cafe back home. I tried hard to fight it but I had no strength.

I loved Sicily - I still do - yet, I found it hard to smile around her.

Her misery and pain from losing herself broke everything in her wake.

She was like a tsunami of agony and she poured over me relentlessly, her waves suffocating me with a delicate embrace. 

I had been ready to propose. 

She was ready to take time apart.

In that moment of hot, searing pain, my heart stopped. I felt like she didn't want me. Then I realized, it's because she didn't. 

After I left Sicily, I started to travel.

Anywhere.

I visited Asia for months, hiking through ice-glazed mountains of rocks and the hills of golden sand.

I wanted to find out who I wanted to be.

I let my hair grow out again, letting it curl along the outline of my body.

The once plain caramel color grew with the platinum kisses of the sun and my hair swung down my back past my shoulder with tiny braids knotted by three white beads.

I allowed myself to feel adventurous and powerful again.

I challenged myself to learn the customs of the areas I traveled and wash the feet of those who suffered.

I got tattoos and henna along the curves of my spine, delicate patterns of flowers and animals trailing along each bump, hugging it closely, like a lover. I got a tattoo for each place I went: A cherry blossom branch for Japan, a crane for China, a lotus flower for Thailand, a delicate dragon for Vietnam, an elephant for India. My left arm slowly became more and more colorful, a painting for each memory I made.

As I made my way through Asia, sailing along the curves of the Li River in China, and hiking through the lush green of Sa Pa in Vietnam, I realized that the whole idea of "finding yourself" is total bullshit. There wasn't a zen moment for me, not in Krabi in Thailand where the water sang a soothing lullaby with its instrumental breeze, nor while I sat for days under Mount Fuji, the sun bleaching my hair as wildflowers blushed beneath me. I found out that my journey of self-discovery didn't reveal anything to me; it only solidified the fact that I was a man in his mid-twenties that loved a woman who didn't love herself. And I realized then, that no matter the people you meet in your life, there will always be a Sun amongst the planets. And you will orbit around this person, or like me, you will fly in, and decimate yourself in your love. 

Deep down, you always know. 

I left Asia and headed to the namesake of my soul.

I know that to be opulent is to to be wealthy and that I am.

Yet in the time I spent away from Sicily, I grew to appreciate the wealth of a person; I grew tired of gold that lacked the flavor of personality.

People grew to have more worth than the bills in my pockets.

In the ruins of a once mighty people there sat a girl with freckled shoulders and a dress the color of midnight.

I saw her white hair, cut neatly in a pixie cut and in her hands, Macbeth.

And while wandering through the Temple of Apollo, I fell again.

I fell like Hephaestus from the sky.

I fell with the passion of the fallen angel Lucifer.

I fell, and once more, my eyes interlocked with those of copper, green amber.

And for the first time in years, she smiled.

And for the first time in years, the opulence of my life truly, wonderfully sparked in salty summer air.