Life is too short for boring stories

Inspired by “Long lost friends” by Kieran Halpin

The ice glistened in the sunlight. Ice crystals such as diamonds. Glass clear so you could see the water. Maybe I could dare. It was a long time since the water was frozen. The skates lay next to me, easy to handle, when you sat down to me and asked me, whether I would dare, whether I would be ready. And because I was not sure, I said that too. You meant, that the ice would probably be thick enough. It seems so, it always seems so, before you break, I pointed out, and I do not know if it is strong enough to carry all the weight. Much of mine, but also that of my hopes and my longings and my dreams. What ice can hold that?

Who can bear it at all, hopes and longings and dreams, so alone on the ice? So I invited you, but you reject, thought you were not the one. As a compensation, however, so to speak, you brought him into my life and in my wishes, which were waiting for the fulfillment. For Ice skating, on the ice, which finally promised to hold.

And I saw the glitter in his eyes, which I thought was joy, so I let myself in. How much one can be wrong, but whoever thinks of error, if one wants nothing but to be right. If need be, you have to force the right. I did not even realize, that he had long worn the skates. At a time my water had not been frozen. Full of anticipation, I slipped on the skates. He lent me a hand, to help me get up. Touching the first steps, then impetuous, more unapologetic. His hand in mine.

“Don’t worry”, he said to me, and I was irritated, a little, because I was not worried at that time, since everything seemed possible, everything open and accessible.

“I’m not worried” I replied, laughing, Since I gained more and more security. And had he not confirmed it to me, just now?

“Don’t worry”, an invitation, a promise.

My run was getting faster, always daring my jumps. The feeling of liveliness tore me away, strong as a tornado and a tsunami and an avalanche, while his hand slipped away from me, without my noticing it. I always ventured out. The glitter of the ice. It kept me and my hopes and my longings and my dreams, which I saw in him, filled with him, when he had not been near me any longer. The ice crunched. Break into thousands of pieces. And the glitter in his eyes was only the reflection of the sun.

“Don’t worry” was the invitation to worry me. I finally recognized it, the moment I dived into the ice-cold water, and he watched from the shore. Only when I was completely engulfed, the ice cover closed over me again, I saw, that he had gone. The Pandora’s Box topsy-turvy.

The ice was the hope and happiness, the water the pain and the suffering and the abandonment. It did not matter. I let myself sink, to the ground, rinse me with pain, to penetrate into me, until I was a single open wound, my body and my soul and my heart. Dissolving I wanted to let myself into this pain, because then it could not touch me anymore.

When I suddenly felt you next to me. You had gone to the base of the pain. To be there,  there for me. To bind my wounds and strengthen myself, if I would allow it. Respectful to life, which still existed, above, if the ice had melted.

“And what about the one, who left me, is he alright?” I asked you.

Thoughtfully, you shook your head, as you said, what you had to say, because the truth is still the best proof of friendship, and the truth was, that he came to practice, with me, just a little interlude.

“Don’t worry,” said only, “Don’t take it serious.”

And because you said it, I sank deeper into the pain, until it was no longer possible to get deeper. Even then you were beside me, until I was ready, that you could take me with you, out of the water, on the beach. You remain, when the water failed, and when the water came back. A renewed wave of pain, which buried me underneath. They became increasingly rare, the waves and the pain. You were there. Perhaps the water would freeze again and the ice glisten in the sun. Maybe I’d dare to let me in again. However, whether I would try again, as long as you are here, I really don’t have to worry.



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