Love Song

 

by Stenette Davis

I feel like you would be the one to break my heart, so I must leave you alone. This was the text that greeted her when her slumber broke at six in the morning. It popped open what would have previously been barely open eyes. For an instant she felt her head float away from her body and was deafened by her future crashing. She was devoid of all sensation as if she was anaesthetized from the crown of her head to the sole of her feet.

Her brain struggled to pull her back to her reality, the first sensation she could recall was the sound of her heart beating. It sounded so loud as if enough to rupture her eardrums, and violent enough to rupture the heart itself. What is this ocular effluence that coats her hands in salty sorrow? Surely it could not end so abruptly, there must be more, right?

On the other side of town is the man who sent her the text. She just woke up, he didn’t sleep, not a wink. He is somewhat confused because he thought that ending it would make him free of her. This realization was however not his reality. So when he closed his eyes he saw her face, her poorly groomed hair, and her twisted notched teeth. He could still hear her cackling laugh grating at his soul. She is not beautiful at all, he thought, so why can’t I be free of her.

As his brain struggles to purge her from his memories a genteel caress of vanilla floats on a light breeze and kisses him. She too always smelt of vanilla his favourite scent. In his arms her warm body would vaporize her vanilla scented body splash. He had inhaled it so many times; he did not know he was inhaling her too. She is now a part of him, his weakness.

By now he has had twenty missed calls and at least fifty messages. Three hours have passed without him knowing. This is the smallest his room has ever felt. He decided it would be best to go for a walk. He pulled the covers over his phone and headed for the door. He has a niggling thought to get the phone but ignores it. The door opens to see a five foot and four inches tall dishevelled minx eyes read and swollen with mangled hair and notched teeth. All his visual inputs suddenly nullified a rush of vanilla which gives him a warm sensation in his stomach and coldness to his face.

“How long have you been standing here?” he asked, the worse possible question given the circumstances. “Is that the best you can come up with?” she challenged him. With the guiltiest of looks he ignores her question, he tries to go by her but she doesn’t let him. With her small arms she cradled him around his waist. On tippy toes, she rested her head in the small of his neck and drowned him in vanilla.

It was the most amazing of sights; this diminutive figure paralysed him absolutely. Then the words she uttered were like chains anchored to his future and planted in the very fabric of his reality. “you are forever bound to me, the minute you took your first breath you were mine. I am yours eternally in this world and the next. I see no other, there is no one else. So hold my hands love from now until eternity. With your beautiful eyes see only me, with your most sensuous thoughts, desire only me. When you are ravenous be consumed with me. If passion should give way to reason and you lie in a harlot’s bed; let her kisses be mine, let her moaning and squeals be mine. Let from now and henceforth that there be no difference between breathing and thinking of me.” She bewitched him.