The Icy winds, and sleepless nights

Once was I the clearest face, the stone-dead coldness, held in my eyes, loose and running, like the flowing river. Uncomfortable as I grew through each day passing, my legend, twisting, and turning; yearning for passion. Eight years ago, I started anew, neither Christian nor Heathen, neither Muslim, nor Heretic. I stood without chains to a hierarchical power, but to figures in my dreams. The more I woke up, the more I saw their faces. I watched the flowing wind that pierced through each link in the chains. My dreams captivated me, in ways like no other. Since I met you. I guess, in some way or other it all started with you. Before I met you, I felt like nothing, with you, something. Without you, something even I would rather forget.

The last eight years have felt like a dozen life times, crammed into one. I have a story in my head, a story of us, woes kept my heart beating, problems to fix, challenges to walk through… It felt good, meditating every night, expressing my emotion in a spiritual, motivational, explorational way. I must have stood on the highest mountains, and fallen to the most barren, darkest sea in a second yet something about it all felt worth it. It had something to do with this feeling of longing, searching for part of me that felt like it wasn’t with me any more. It was with you.

Standing here now… I feel like I have more scars weighing my soul down than I had ever felt before. So many mistakes, building up in the ocean floor… making sands rise, shift and morph before my eyes. I get like this from time to time. I get lost, in my thoughts, my tracks, like walking through a path of snow, with the tracks being covered by a blizzard. I still have my stone-eyed gaze, though I now have a soft, defending smile, and bitter expression, a pair of broken wings, and deteriorating limbs. I still have that smile, as the hope of someone who will look at me the same way you looked at me beckons me to continue.

I did meet one, a person, blond hair, green eyes, a familiar sentiment, a familiar face. I saw it in my dreams, like anyone I come across who is important to me. Crystals for your eyes, emeralds, wasn’t it? The look you gave me was one from someone who seemed to see more than just another person. You should have seen your face when I gave you the tiniest hint, smallest teaspoon of what escaped my tongue. Instead of the normal hesitant response, you could see the sheer terror in my eyes of opening up to someone and you hugged me. It was that moment I could tell. Though now, I feel like I’ve stolen but a dance from you, and will take my leave, wandering like a fool through a blizzard until I come face to face, with another person who is chained to me, with a strong enough connection to see me through the snow.

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