Always Love, Still

Victor

“At some point, I loved you. But I’m tired. Your love should’ve been for you, and mine for me. I realised, you aren’t ready; for life, love, for this.

I have realised that we aren’t ready.”

Alas, Mel messaged me. Reading the texts made me realise how much I hated everything. How she is right, how I’m not right, how everything has gone to shit ever since I can remember. the upcoming grief - or anger - whatever it is... I hate it. I hate this. I sit here at home, trapped between yesterday, today and tomorrow with no promise in any of them. And there, an empty couch where she used to laugh, stares back at me—like displaying a videotape of who I should’ve been, and what couldn’t be.

And right now, I don’t think I am capable of loving someone anymore—hell, I can’t even think of loving myself.

Clementine

“Lucky, go get it!” I throw the stick far into the dog park. Oh, how tasty Sunday feels! The breeze pouring into my skin, through my veins - swallowing me whole... Isn’t it insane how the world was made for us? You can hold it in your palm, kiss it for warmth,

then love, and be loved.

I look around, embracing the universe: People, cute dogs, andddd hurt. Hurt? He looks so… Lifeless? Dull clothes that match his aura’s colours, eyebags that reek of hell, and messy black hair. “Isn’t today so lovely?” I sit beside him with Lucky, determined to make friends (and maybeee in hopes to cheer him up).

“...Are you crazy?” He looked at me in confusion.

“Maybe, but loving isn’t,” I joked, but he looked at me in disbelief.

“As if! That’s like choosing to slit your own throat.”

“Why would you ever think that?”

“It’s hopeless.”

I pity his mouth. “You, me, us, them — everyone existing, existed, to exist; love is this grand tessellation!”

“So why can’t I feel it?”

I am only hoping that one day he knows that what this is, is love itself.

Victor

Today’s Friday; I’ve returned to this annoying - yet peaceful - park. I don’t know why or what for, but blame my legs; for they’ve crawled me here as if I’ve yearned for something I miss—someone I miss. Ah there’s the same-old-same-old: strangers, dogs, happiness. Happiness? Over there, she seems so… Content, sitting on that bench. She’s dripping with blinding love: her orange outfit, curly ginger hair, and that same smile. My eyes hurt. But somehow, that wasn’t enough to stop my legs from managing to greet hers.

“Why didn’t you answer my question?” I stop infront of her. Genuinely hoping she remembers our last conversation—nevermind that, remembers me at all.

“... And you are?”

“Victor.”

“Oh, goodmorning Victor! I’m Clementine,” That same smile… “Well, I’ve thought about it since the last time we’ve met. And I don’t really know the answer.” She paused as I sat next to her on the bench. “It’s hard to answer that, especially as tiny hearts held by the world - undecided unlike the universe,” Her dainty fingers pick up a dead brown leaf. “But life goes on... With green leaves, without golden retrievers. Because nothing can get rid of it,” Then she crushes the leaf – its corpse trickling down her lap. Maybe the leaf should’ve disappeared into nothingness, but it didn’t. Although it was broken apart, it was still a leaf — just now smaller pieces of love.

“Nothing,” Clementine repeats.

“Where’s that fluffy dog? I haven’t seen him,” I ask. “... Gone,” She looks up from her hands with that same soft smile... Gone? But she doesn’t look upset by her loss…

How do you let it stay silent? Your sadness, I mean. Keeping it in your teeth without letting it speak; how does it smile? Shut, locked away?

As if reading my mind, she puts her hands around her mouth and yells, “Life goes on!”

Her words reviving me back into my body.

Clementine

Does this grief ever get easier to carry? There’s sadness scratched onto the walls of my throat - and nothing has heard of it except for Lucky. I miss him more than I can bear.

“You grasp life so lovingly,” Victor utters. Next to me on this bench in this park, I’ve only tried to help him, nothing less. It’s like coming back from a bad day at work and walking past a homeless person… Wouldn’t it be instinct to help them? Befriend them, donate, fix them.

But what he really needs, and for me too, is that I need to help myself first. And it was a mistake to think that I could fix anyone when I am merely just as broken as them.

“Well, I hope I do—it’s only fair that everyone knows that life is meant to be loved!” I joked, hoping he doesn’t see through my facade.

If only this black-haired friend knew I plan on leaving.

Victor

And so the years slipped by. Alone on our park-bench, the world keeps eating me up and spitting me out. As if this is my fault that I am being stabbed over and over again. And yet, I don’t know where I am - or what to do - but no one does (and that’s life, right?).

No one does and yet everyone loves regardless. Everything loves regardless. So to Mel, my ex, I’ve been ready; for life, love, for this… This time, finally giving myself the leaves that I would’ve given you. Even though I am with voids in my heart where missing love and friendship were —

it drips with Clementine’s taste. And that is okay, that is life. (Don’t think this didn’t affect me. She is missed.)

But that is enough for life to walk.

Maybe today without Clementine, but time passes and there is love. Always love, still.