Whirlwind

Inspired by J, and Loch Lomond, Scotland.

Required listening before reading : Whirlwind, by JMK.

No, seriously, go listen to it first.

Tangled webs of maybes.

I brushed wisps of hair out of my eyes. The air dived and soared, tears from the sky dancing lightly upon its every crest and dip. We were on the cusp of fate. Destiny would be writ large on this day as time slowed to a crawl.

She plucked on the strings of her guitar, a mellifluous melody ringing out into the damp evening sky. There were no birds around to invade the serenity of her earnest chorus. Each note struck a nerve that I wished did not exist. With each passing moment, a little bit more of what was left of me perished.

You don’t know what it really meant to me.

Light receded as night took its customary turn. The frigidity swept in, insidiously immersing us in a subtly malevolent embrace. Still, the notes and harmonies came. Still, my impending mortality edged ever closer.

The howl of the westerly winds mirrored the silent scream that dominated my soul. I wanted what providence told me I could never have. I longed for what was not mine. She peeked out from behind her instrument, an easy smile masking her mastery of its intricate complexities.

Everything that you believe is everything I see.

I reached out and grasped her hand. Startled, she nearly dropped the guitar. The kiss was sudden, unexpected. I could not hold it back any longer. Lips met and the whimsical ferocity of my being struck me with genuine surprise. She answered with a fantastical vigour of her own, the icy wailing of nature willed back in an assault of tempestuous desire.

I bathed in the warm glow of temporary satisfaction. On it went, this most capricious of kisses, this most volatile of amorous expression. The moment lasted several lifetimes, each cycle reinvigorating the jaded hollowness of the shell I once was. The march of death slowed.

The roads are open wide.

I had to make it clear. I rejected the thought of us never being with each other. I pressed in harder, the urgency of my brush with oblivion fueling the most ardent of hails for temporal displacement.

A battle had begun. Armies lined up, lines drawn. I heeded none of it. The soldiers of fortune would do all they could to leave us dying on the sands of time. I pushed on, the roar of the blood coursing in my veins giving me the strength to keep up the fight.

We were meant for different lives.

No! The weight of the world crashed in on me. Attacks of apprehension crippled my resolve, their nefarious subterfuge unravelling the future I had painted for us. I felt her tenacity ebb as my own took a beating. We had to rally ourselves if triumph was to be ours.

I fought for an eternity, never giving an inch, her fortitude conjoining with mine in a breathlessly enthralling onslaught on the vicissitudes of chance. And then, within the blink of an eye, we parted. We had gone up against death, and won.

Unlike two birds in the sky.

I looked into the eyes of the one I knew I loved. Her smile came again, easy and warm. She was a beacon of feverish affection, shining brightly in the savagely cold beauty of the highlands.

Yes, you are my friend. But we’re meant for so much more than that. We’re going to conquer the world and leave haplessness in our wake. We’re going to scale untold heights and steer through treacherous depths. We’re going to do it all together, from now till our time on this planet is done.

This will be our whirlwind.

With everything you are, I am.

Image credit : Stephen Taylor