Apparition

I still cannot comprehend why my Soul would kill itself in such a manner - a slow and torturous process of dying. Against all reasons.

I cannot comprehend why, for years, I must wake with this pain in my heart; with the knowledge that when it hurts deeper and longer, you are holding someone else's hand.

A feeling and knowledge for which I bleed, and bleed.

And I bleed more so these days, because I keep seeing and hearing your ghost. It haunts me with no consideration for time and place. It haunts me when I'm a sinner and when I'm a saint. It haunts me more so each time I deny my affection towards you.

I would run, and run, and run. I run in the hope that you would transpire into the air together with my heat and sweat. In the least, that as I increase speed, God is His mercy would let the world suddenly vanish with all existence including you and me and whoever the other person is.

I finished running late one evening. I was going to change when I met him. He smiled. He was pleasant. He asked of things. He asked if I might sometimes join him and his friends for a game or two. I smiled back. Perhaps, I thought, I could learn to slowly let you go.

And then I saw you. Sitting behind him, with your bare back facing us. You were a distance away, but it was your back. I remembered the details, the curves, the sinews. The way you always sat.

For seconds I was speechless, until your back slowly transformed into some random man's with completely different details, and a different way of sitting.

I tried running away. I ran from the places we know.

I went into seclusion. I prayed. I came out after a time, thinking that perhaps God had finally given me the grace to go my way (or where He intends me to), and you yours.

Then you slowly, slowly, passed before me. Sitting in a car with the window rolled down. The way you always held a gadget in your hands - your mobile, or ipod. The way you always raised your eyebrows, feigning indifference.

You haunt me everywhere.

You are crucifying me.

You have always looked and sounded like you would recover sooner than me. Perhaps you have. Perhaps you have.. or you'll convince others - and then yourself - that you have.

I used to be sure, as I woke with that familiar pain piercing through my chest, that something had taken place. When it hurt deeper, and it lasted throughout the day, I knew something had happened with you. What and who is it now?

But you said, again and again, "Stay still."

So, even as I bled this morning, I remained still. I knew. I sensed. But I stayed still and bled in silence, because you asked.

Perhaps someday I'll learned to ignore the pain's message.
Perhaps I'll someday stop hearing and seeing your ghost.

Or I'll bleed to my death.