He came from across the mountains, bearing gifts of hope. That was the first time I saw him, when I was twelve. He came and he stayed for a week, then a month, then a year. He watched me without a word and I watched him.
The next time I saw him again I was fifteen. A little older now, but still carrying the same air of innocence. I had the mindset of a child frolicking in the meadows, taking pleasure at everything she touches, every new experience that crosses her eyes. When he came, he touched my cheek and a cold shiver ran up my spine. It wasn't even a caress, more of a curious touch. But I felt the cold and I felt the tension and it was too late to turn back.
I tried to forget him but he was always lurking in the back of my mind, wondering when it was safe to come out of the shadows. I would quell him, shush him, but I could feel the muscles on his back, his arms rippling, getting stronger with each passing day.
He wanted me, that much I knew. From the first day we met, he wanted to claim me as his own. He was waiting for the opportunity, waiting for me to let my guard down so he could strike with the force he had been building up. When that force comes, I know I will not be able to block it.
Suddenly, he seemed to fade. As quickly as he had come, he started to fade further and further into the darkness. I smiled more, laughed more. Tried to imagine myself as a happier person. But I couldn't stop thinking of him, what he could do to me if I let him. He was the predator and I was the lame prey. Easy catch, it was just a matter of time.
Then, my world shattered and he came back. He picked me up and helped me to stand. I was numbingly oblivious to the world, oblivious to the hands who held my waist, pressing me against his body. There was no light in my eyes and yet he held me. Without a word, he brushed the hair away from my forehead and kissed it. I didn't realise until it was too late to stop him..
He clung on to me for another two years, taking care of me until I could stand on my own two feet again. I looked at him. Had he always been this big and strong? I couldn't remember. I wanted to feel safe and protected in his arms but somehow it felt more of a prison.
Now he could reach out and touch me. His icy fingers trailed the side of my face, giving me the cold shivers I had felt when I was a child. His arms wrapped around me tightly until I struggled for breath and he would release me. I could feel him waiting to pounce, like a tiger. Waiting for the day when I could no longer struggle and he could finally claim me, body and soul, as his own. I wanted to succumb to his touch but sanity held me back.
He clung on, constantly trying to convince me to let go. He was getting stronger as I was growing weaker. The day where he would strike was fast approaching, I could feel it and I couldn't stop it.
A new experience came, one that finally brought back the joy I had missed out on. Cautiously, I reached out for it and it sucked me into a whirlwind of adventures and emotion. It was nothing I have ever felt before and nothing I would want to trade it for. This new experience can be comparable to a journey of sorts. A journey that will never end as long as I continue to pour my heart and soul into it. I truly believe that new experience is the answer I have been waiting for my whole life and now it's here, I have no need of him anymore.
I don't need to lean on him for support, I don't need to hope that he'll take me away. I am not giving up on this journey, why, it has only just begun. I have no need for support, I can hold myself up tall. He can try time and again to get me back but I will not let him in. He shrinks the more I stand and if I can quell him for good, I shall.
He had a name. Depression.
This is goodbye, my old friend. I shan't be seeing you again.
xoxo
Nicabeth
No comments:
Post a Comment