Ink Blots

six

dear north;

Every time I looked at you, my heart burned.

Maybe because you were the carburant my heart needed to be lit on fire. You were the gasoline to my love: all I needed was you to realize that I wanted to love. Maybe you were the fire too— I touched you and didn't burn until you left. Grey, red, orange flames made you glow at every step. And I never bothered to extinguish your flame.

Maybe the right thing for me to do was to at least try.

"Sweetheart, you need to understand something," you told me, a day after the horrors of your household became a secret of mine. A day after Valerie cried and cried in your arms, and you held her like your second skin.

I'll save you, you whispered over and over. I'll keep you safe. Only I caught your silent promises, keeping them in my heart for her.

I've kept all of your whispers, North. I know you used your 11:11 wish every day for her to hear you, but I also know that the hum of your body when you mumbled of hope kept her safe. 

You always made sure I could read your lips when you spoke to Val about your promises of a better life, one where the colors of the sunset stayed on the sky and not on your bodies.

Back to that day. Dilated pupils and red cheeks, you looked at me with intent. "You need to understand that I don't want you to carry anyone's burden. I am Valerie's shoulders, I'll carry her world and mine and I'll be fine. You, however-"

"What? I can't handle it? I want to help you, North. And her, too. Let me help."

"Lilac," you scoffed, amused. "Let me finish. You, however, are naive and soft and too good for the world. I don't want you to pity me, I'm not a basket case. I find you beautiful. I don't want to taint you with my life. I-"

"North," I was brave enough to put my hand on your mouth. "I won't try to save you. I won't pity you. I'll be here for you. Always. You have me. I'm an open book without a story to tell, I have a place to carry yours."

You took my hand away, and held it in yours. "I'm not made for love, Lilac. You are."

And maybe you talking about love after the fifth time of meeting me should have terrified me, rooted me in my place, made me want to run away.

But you and I were not made to love, North. I have never met love and you chose not to, and even holding hands, we never knocked at her house. Love, I imagined, was a woman with eyes made of the galaxies and endless satin skin with more temptations than boundaries. Love was beautiful, the warm chill that settled in the pit of my stomach when you looked at me. But love wasn't meant to meet us. I knew her well, I just wanted to protect you from her.

Love went out of her way to touch us, she knew no fences: we loved, simply without words.

"I don't want to love you, North," I willed my voice to be as soft and strong as your eyes. "I want to be your friend. Please. Let me carry some of the burden. I may be slim and kinda short, but my shoulders are as strong as yours. I just want to be here for you." 

You shook your head and sighed. Hands holding my small one, you soaked me in with your heart. Your skin looked so soft, but I saw the tragedy in them. No fear, just tragedy.

"If I hurt you, don't forgive me, Lilac. Alright?"

The shape of my name on your lips made it my favorite word. I blinked. "Alright."

You pulled me into your arms like this was where I'd belonged. My body released a sigh, every inch of me relaxed. Chin on on my neck, I felt your breath tickling my skin. Uneven and short, I knew it was one of your famous whispers.

I remember pulling away and asking you, "what did you say?"

"Nothing," the warmth of your eyes was my favorite shade of brown. "You wanna come help me with job applications?"

Of course I did, I helped you make your CV and went with you to a dozen different stores that day. You got three on-the spot interviews and one instantaneous job offer. We walked around side by side, a summer breeze and a storm of fire, charming the universe ash by ash.

Now that I look back on it, I want to ask you what you said to me that night. Did you warn me that falling for you would scrape every part of my skin? Did you promise to keep me safe, too? Did you apologize? Did you tell me you loved me?

One whisper that I have caught once is: "I hope you're made for love."

If I am, it is because of you.

love, lilac