Thousand Paper Cuts

Twenty-four : are all the poets right?

Mark :

He drove fast under the rain, and after a long infinite time, his pain welcome him home again.

Skye :

Her eyes kept staring at the street light far at the corner of the coffee shop, and for the first time she exactly knew where it hurt.

Mark :

He tried to remember the last time he'd seen in her eyes. Because everything had happened so fast, and all he was left with was the crumbled memory of her wry smile.

Skye :

She tried to remember the first time they'd kissed amid fireworks red and yellow. Because at that time she'd thought it might actually work, and that love they shared was infinite.

"Skye?!", someone shouted her name from behind, as she was standing still on the lonely road at almost 1:00 a.m.
She turned her head back, finding James in his truck.
"I'll give you a ride!", he shouted loud in the falling rain.
She left her heart right at that spot, and sat in his truck as he spoke,
"I'll drop you home."
She nodded a little, and just looked outside the window.
"Skye, you alright?"
"Yeah", she deadpanned. She took one American blue cigarette out and kept staring at it.
"You're not", James simply replied.
She looked back at James, and in the little light coming from the city lights, she could starkly look at his wrinkled face focusing on the road ahead. She was already writing in her mind :
An old wrinkled man driving me back home, not really knowing my only home was gone like the wind.
She let out a sharp breath and then started crying a river she had been holding on for a long time.
It was a painful wail, the one full of sorrows and grieves and unconditional pain.
Slowly, he said, while driving down the road,
"I don't know what really happened between you two, but I think you should go back to him and talk."
"How do---"
He cut her off, saying,
"I was just about to close the library, but then I saw you guys screaming at eachother. I don't know you guys were fighting, but I know something's wrong. But you...you are gonna fix it."
She threw her unburnt cigarette out, and replied,
"I can't, James, there's no way."
When they arrived at her neighbourhood, she got out from the truck, and James said,
"Humans think mess can't ever be fixed. But they don't know how wrong they are. Even the worst may become best sometimes. Because there is always a way."

Mark :

There wasn't any way out of pain, because he always felt like a drowned soul in the ocean of affliction. The waves of consciousness would always strike him against the rocks of sadness and suffering.

He had reached his home before her, and he locked up all the doors and windows that exposed him to the outer world.
Once again, he was locked in pain.
He reached out for his lamp on the bedside table and smacked it against the wall. He ran his fingers on his face again and again, as if he wasn't real and this all was a dream.
His heart beated out loud like thunder. He picked up his guitar and smacked it too, on the bookshelf where many of his favourite books fell down, opening at random pages.
Once again, he was drowned.
Nothing made sense. Especially Skye.
Of course, he was just another late mourner on the wall of consciousness. She just came with her crooked smile and crazy hair, to make his pain more inevitable than it was in the first place.
He wrote on pieces of papers and slapped them on his wall of thoughts :

You broke me.
I'm nobody.
This deciduous life. Longing for a spring.

How could she even think of lying to him? Didnt she know how she was the only one he'd opened up to, and how all his world revolved around her?
Maybe she didn't know that, because he never really told her how hurt he had been before meeting her, and how he was just starting to recover with her, and how she ruined the last hope.
But..no matter what, he hated himself for still loving her. For still caring about her. And, she didn't feel this way about him. How could he believe in her after seeing what he saw with his own eyes?