Healing

December 10, 2009

Seated in silence. Trying to fit in with many complacent hearts surrounding him. Trying to ignore the stirring within his heart. Begging himself not to long for more. But every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her staring back.

She is marked. Defined by pain and bitterness. Drowning in hopelessness. Suffocated by an unsatisfied longing. She is wrapped up tightly, like a ball of yarn. She resists love. She resists being desired. She is resigned to being alone forever. She no longer believes in destiny, in fairy tale endings.

He lifts the guitar, closing his eyes so he can see her beautiful face. In that moment he reads something different in her eyes, something her lips have never dared to utter. She is a dreamer, and he dreams of her. He strums, laying bare his soul. He bleeds precious words to the rhythm of his hands. He wants something more. She tries not to.

Every sense she has is being overcome. She is frustrated; spinning out of control. He is willfully unraveling her. His eyes wake life within her. Her hatred calls forth a deeper love from him.

Old wounds begin to open. Images flood her mind: men who have stolen from her, men she has given to. She screams. Weeps. Thrashes.

He leans forward. Crying. Singing. Kissing her, kissing her…

She relents, letting him in. And he says her scars are also his. He says she is beautiful, beautiful… she says he is out of his mind. He is covered in her blood now but still pressing closer. She is not holding on. She is not hiding. He is holding her. He is exposed. And for the very first time she is at ease.

She is healing, healing…