Yuanfen

One of her fondest memories as a child were sunsets. She sat by the lake with her mother and watched with an unwavering gaze, as a fiery red orb of light slowly sank beneath the horizon, and threads of light lingered in the sky, mingling with the rolling clouds, dyeing the heavens first orange, then red, then dark blue, until all that was left of the sunset was a chalky mauve, and then that melted away in turn as stygian darkness took over the sky. Sequin-silver stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire winked down at her, illuminating the atramentous curtain of the sky, and then suddenly the clouds parted, and she found herself looking at a lustrous, argent disc casting brilliant rays of moonlight onto the dark grounds…

“Do you see those colours, daughter?” Her mother would ask the question in her most comforting voice. “They are symbols. Each showing you the good tomorrow could bring.”

The world was a beautiful place, once, in her imagination. As a young child she always dreamed of what it would be like to grow up, become independent, move away to an island of pure paradise. Where the sun sat half-exposed at the horizon, showing off its tinted citrus hues on the calm surface of the underworld, Where she could stand with the water curling around her toes, as she looked out to the silhouettes of palm trees on the neighbouring island, and where she could watch the golden butter-coloured sun slide dramatically behind the skyline, leaving the bold white moon to shine silver beams on the rippling facade.

Today, as she lay by the ocean, on an island, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand, Her eyes steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. Her lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that she is enjoying her thoughts, whatever they may be.

From where she lay, she had a perfect view of the sun set threatening to dip behind the horizon. Sky awash and ablaze with colors found at the heart of a fire, she watched how lovely the sky was, how mutable and changing. Firstly cascading a prim bombardment of colours that were flung over the sky with terrible alacrity. The receding blue and oranges battled the blackness pushing it away with arms. It shone on the ocean below shining its deep depths. The radiant glow scintillated and beamed: the legacy of the sun. The sun omniscient omnipotent left hanging in the crisp air it floated downwards like a deflated balloon.

The clouds were cotton-candy, as though they blushed at the warm touch of the sun. Silhouettes of birds flew home across a sky that was now magenta; and the sun was half into the water, but its reflection in the ocean made it look complete. The mauve of the dusky sky intensified, and in just a while, the biggest star had set, giving way to a thousand others.

To her, the sunset is merely a prelude to the dawn. It reminded her that not all is lost and that the world is still a beautiful place. With a new dawn being ushered in, it held so many possibilities of good things yet to be experienced. It gave her hope for better days ahead.

It’s the possibilities of a new dawn that led him to her. And for that she will always be grateful for the sunsets and the sunrises.

There was something about him that gave her hope. Something about his smile and how he kissed her that told her he wasn’t like everyone else. God, she loved him with every beat of her heart and it consumed her. It isn’t easy, he has given her so much to remember, so much that every time she thinks of him, the memories make her heart ache. She loves him, and her heart aches for him every time. Her lips whisper prayers for him. Part of her wishes he’d come back and part of her fades in his absence.

She doesn’t quite know yet how many sunrises and sunsets it will take for her to stop visiting down memory lane with every chance she gets, or how long she’ll lie to herself by telling herself that he’ll come find her soon and everything will be okay. And that they would live happily ever after.

It’s as if she can feel his hands intertwined with hers when she thinks of him, almost as if she can feel the outline of his eyes and the the softness of his hair as she slowly moves her palm in the air. She can still smell his morning breath. She is still aroused whenever she thinks of his soft kisses on her bare shoulders. She is turned on by the mere memory of his touch on her skin. He made love to her like no one else ever has. The longing and want in his eyes for her, how he would make her squirt and orgasm, leaving her body shaking uncontrollably for a good five minutes, and even get into it again right after her shivers had subdued. They were like teenagers in love and would make love all day given the chance. She wishes with all her heart, body and soul to feel the warmth of his chest or hold his hand or get goodnight kisses from him.

Nothing will ever really be the same without him. From the silly jokes they made, the long conversations on the phone, the deep talks they shared, the laughs, she misses it all. She now forces herself to laugh at things that aren’t that funny and she barely talks to anyone as much in his absence, almost as if she’s non existent.

So many dusks and dawns, sunrises and sunsets, have come and gone, a thousand memories in between, one would think that’s enough time to give up, stop fighting for them, forget someone and let go, move on, to forget and be okay. One would hope, that’s enough time to heal and recover. But is there really enough time?

She knew the sad reality: You don’t measure love in time. You measure love in transformation. Sometimes the longest connections yield very little growth and happiness whilst the briefest encounters change everything. The heart doesn’t wear a watch- it’s timeless. It doesn’t care how long you know someone. It doesn’t care if you have a 15 year anniversary, a 40 year anniversary or even a one month anniversary if there is no juice in the connection. What the heart cares about is resonance. Resonance that opens it, resonance that enlivens it, resonance that calls it home. And when it finds it, the transformation begins.

She had found that resonance in him, and the days spent with him were the best days of her life. Only to have their transformation cut short by reality. She felt like her life is on hold, on a standstill no matter how much she tried to carry on, on her own. Late at night, she longs to be held, longs to be assured, longs to be chosen and to be told that it all shall be alright. To be told that it still was them against the world. Just him and her at the end of it all.

But she takes the good, swirl it around just inside the one place in her heart that remains unbroken, she lets it linger long enough to feel it, but not too much. She takes the good, because when it was still good, it was the most beautiful thing she’ll ever know, and she holds it. She holds it like the first time before she ever knew there would be a last time. She holds it like there’s still a chance. She holds it like a beginning that never ends. She holds onto it for dear life and pretends it was never the death of her. She takes the good, before the bad came smashing in, and she holds it like she will never let go, because she will never let go. It’s all she has left of what they are. She holds the good, so she can live with the bad, and keep them safe like she promised she always would.

She wanted to explain to him of how she is constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race, that rarely does she even simply estimate it. She wanted to ask him how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant. If she stayed in the same place, how would she know whether he was leaving her or just leaving?

She is haunted by humans. She is haunted by him.

She understands she can never stop loving him. Once you love someone honestly, truly and unconditionally, you will never be able to un-love them. Days will turn to months and to years and You may be lucky enough to find someone you will love more. At that time your old love will not feel so strong, but it is a heart, it will never let you forget something that ever made you happy.

All she is left to do is just continue loving blindly. With all the signs telling her stop, telling her that if he isn’t willing to fight for her the same way she has been fighting for them, then she should close the damn door, that someone better will come along, but she knows he is her best, without a doubt.

She understands that she is not weak for choosing to love anyway, It makes her brave because there was a chance that it could have been more that what it is now. It’s better to give it a chance than giving up before starting.

A warm sensation splashes onto her face as the stars peek out under the black, night sky. A calmness flows by with the wind making her heart stop for a single second. She could hear the rhythmic percussion of waves as if they were whispering one another to hush. She can only wait to see another magical moment of beauty and warmth. She can only wait for another sunset.

Through teary eyes she rises up and trots away, away from the waves, away from the sand, away from everyone around her, away from her memories of him. Hoping that a new dawn will bring her reassurance and clarity from him.

Yuanfen: (n) a relationship by fate or destiny; the binding force between two people.