He knows, deep within his soul, that God and Fate brought them together. Every time her hand brushes his shoulder, her eyes his eyes, her knee his knee, he knows this. Every time they talk, for hours on end without a silence, every time they walk, unconsciously in time with each other, every time they sing together and begin, unplanned, in the same key, every time they smile at each other for no reason, he knows this.
When with her, he is aware of every move she makes, all her fidgeting, all her gestures, all her aimless wanderings; whether looking at her or not his entire being is aware of her. When without her, he is aware only of a faint worry, knowing how innocent she can be, how foolish, how she often doesn’t think about things, how she takes risks that everyone wishes she wouldn’t, and he knows that his is the only worry she allows to exist, knows that there is something deep there that gives him the right to worry.
There are times when they do not speak for months, and there is no agony in the distance because they are always drawn back to each other, and he knows that there is a reason for this, that he can be sure they will never stay too far apart. There are times when they see each other every day for a week, and there is no agony in the closeness because, no matter how often one or the other pulls back, the connection is maintained and there is method to the madness in the way they interact.
If asked, he would immediately say that they are the best of friends, closer to each other than brother and sister, and though their best friendship does not exist in the traditional sense, he knows that it is there. And he knows why it is there, knows that they were brought together by God and Fate and consequently cannot be torn apart, and the knowing does not come with happiness or sadness or anger or resignation or delirium or excitement, it merely is, and it is in the times when he knows it the most deeply that he wishes that he could rewind back to before they met and avoid her so that she wouldn’t have the heartache he knows she inflicts on herself because she’s not ready for them to belong together.
And just as he, she also knows, deep within her soul, that God and Fate brought them together. Every time his hand brushes her back, his eyes her eyes, his knee her knee, she knows this. Every time they talk, for hours on end without a silence, every time they walk, unconsciously in time with each other, every time they sing together and begin, unplanned, in the same key, every time they smile at each other for no reason, she knows this.
When with him, she is aware of every move he makes, his quiet, deliberate movements, the lazy shifting of his body as he stands, the solid stillness of him; whether looking at him or not her entire being is aware of him. When without him, she is only aware of something indefinable missing, some integral part of herself, and she hates when she remembers what it is, hates knowing that there is something deeper that gives her the right to have him as a part of her.
There are times when they do not speak for months, and she is unaware of the passage of time, not remembering to think of him, not remembering that they will inevitably be drawn back together, not remembering that there is someone to be drawn back to. There are times when they see each other every day for a week, and she is painfully aware of how much she is drawn to him and yet not, seeking to find reason in the madness in her heart.
If asked, she would immediately say that they are best of friends, closer to each other than brother and sister, and though their best friendship does not exist in the traditional sense, she knows that it is there. And she knows why it is there, knows that they were brought together by God and fate and consequently cannot be torn apart, and the knowing comes with anger and resignation and an annoying sense that everything else is meaningless in the face of this, and it is in the times when she knows it the most deeply that she wishes she could just fast-forward past all the heartache she knows she’ll cause him because she’s not ready for them to belong together.
4 comments:
omg I LOOOVE this Jess!
The way you mirrored everything was awesome, especially the unexpected shift between the guy and the girl. Also the kind of distant narrative style was really well done, it kept everything from being overdramatic or cheesy.
The only only thing I didn't like was the italics on the word "to." I felt like each sentence was so powerful you didn't need it :)
Wow. This is so sad. So so sad. You do it so well though! It's tragic that neither of them can be together because of this mutual inability, and yet they're both so in sync with each other that it's so difficult to believe they're NOT ready. I like that though, the feeling that you simply can't force certain things no matter what everyone else says, or what you think. It's so subtle, so real, so accurate - perfect in every descrition. I like the very slight changes in between their two parts so it doesn't get stale reading it a second time, yet it's close enough that it works, seeing as they're so much on the same page so much of the time.
Wow. Okay. Um. Just plain great? This is so whimsical and non-whimsical and other-worldly yet grounded. How terrible heartbreaking. And yet it's realistic? I mean, I can see it playing all out; the perfect couple that just can't get it together, or shouldn't.
As Andrea said, love the mirroring. Usually it's a pain to re-read, but it works really well in this.
The only thing I would suggest is to put more concrete happenings. It's mainly describing feelings, moments, emotions, but it still feels like it's all a bit up in the air, and possibly in both their heads. Maybe that's how you wanted it to be? The whole..floating feeling they feel when together, but it seems to me like this is a much deeper connection, and there should be more...interaction between them.
Jessica! I like this, probably because of the ending. I guess that makes me something of cynic.
Like Tabs said, I think some details would've been interesting, since I believe love has to be grounded in something, some facts, so affinities, and I don't think we got much of this here. It would have also possibly helped to explain why she wouldn't be ready yet.
I learned in class today that the words "text" and "textile" have the same root (it seems to obvious now). I think your piece is a very good example of this, it's very tightly-woven and well-crafted. You build patterns and then undo them, with very few stitches, and the prose fits the content perfectly. Well done!
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