Seeing Her Again

By: Nicole Aguero 

Drip

Drip

Drop

Gentle tears stream down my face. My body’s overcome with a quaking I can’t handle. Everything’s nothing and nothing is everything. So much to say, to confess in this situation yet words feel like vomit I have to force out. I don’t want to disappoint her, I want her to know I’m alright even when I’m clearly not. It’s not her fault, please know it’s not. Looking up at her, she only smiles and places her hand on my cheek helping my heavy head raise to see her fully. Before I do or say anything she speaks in words of angelic behavior 

“ I already know” 

The knot in my chest unravels as I let my tears go free sopping into the embrace she holds me in. No words needed to escape while scraping my throat for her to know. And for those moments lying there I confess in my mind to her, everything. 

I’m not doing well. Everything seems…scary, intimidating. I tell myself the future is worth it, I have so much to look forward to even though I have no idea how the future will play out. I have thoughts that I don’t like and wish I didn’t have. I’ve said things I regret. Sometimes the only thing I feel I can do is pray to a god I don’t even know is listening. My trust is blind yet I don’t regret it. I’d do anything for you. 

She looks at me having heard every thought. 

It’s okay, everything’s okay. There’s no hate. She’s right here. She tells me without a movement from her mouth “you’re an angel, but it’s not your time to fly now. There are reasons for living. You’ll soar one day but hold on for me and live. You’ve been doing such a good job, keeping on so strongly. Even when on the thinnest of strings you have balanced.” 

Her warmth is unparalleled, voice soothing to my ears like a soft piano playing with harps, gaze like no other, her pupils filled black shining with stars of an unknown world to me, no mold in sight, and her skin glows, body as light as air though somehow able to hold me. The bags I remember hanging on her face are gone, the ratted bun on her head replaced by locks of healthy brown hair.

 Tears aren’t enough in this situation, no human expression is enough whether words or physical to fully envelope how I feel. The word feel itself seems lackluster. A gift from something higher than even god to be here, to hear her, have her hold me like this. The fear of failure and disappointment fades from her own light. 

Ethereal. 

The only word worthy to describe her is “ethereal. ”

All judgment and sin has been stripped of her being and even in my own filth of mistakes there is beauty felt just by being by her as if even though she is so much higher she can make you feel perfectly acceptable in her company. To hold on, to live for her is a promise I make to both of us. She had no choice. I do. The knowledge that if I made the opposite choice could potentially let me see her has tempted me on several occasions but if she asks, if she holds my face, tears of gold streaming, I can’t possibly be selfish enough to do such an action. No matter the pain, mistakes, or dread I will find the leftover beauty she has left for me here. 

With this I hold in the depths of my heart scorching a new principle of promise. For her, anything. For the woman who brought me here, anything. 

This place where I meet her is a blessing. Her acceptance of me gives peace like no other. A confirmation I’m doing alright. I don’t need to worry, my life is what I will make it, I can only walk down my road until it stops. The rocks in my way are something I must step over for at the end she’ll be waiting. I know she will be there, Charlie next to her and whoever else is waiting.

 Is it foolish to think that? 

Foolish to pledge loyalty to something that could lead me somewhere so much more than what I have here which is already so much? Whether real or not I’ll take my chances rather than seeing only what’s here now. 

Illusion, dream, hallucination, reality,

My mom tells me she loves me one last time.

And that’s all I really need.