I hardly noticed them at first. They were so tranquil; barely
moving, barely breathing. They were as pale as the moon at
midnight. My breath slowed, became calmer, as I watched them.
For days they lay there, curled together like two small birds
in a nest, huddled together for warmth or protection, I don't
know which. At first their silent intimacy excluded me, but
as I watched, I was absorbed into its warmth.
You could hardly tell that they were two, and not one, so
still and close were they. They breathed as one, softly
rising and falling in tandem breath. Their bodies were
intertwined, melded softly together. It was only when I came
close, and tried to speak, that I would see them shrink away
in two seperate movements, cowering closer to one another.
I can imagine their fear. It was a different world they came
from, and my would was so much louder, so much more actionful.
How it must have hurt their ears, insulted their eyes, made
them long to shrink back to wherever it was they came from!
For a week they watched, and feared, learning my ways and my
hurts. I tried to speak to them, to make them less
frightened. I told them about my life. I told them of my
beloved, whom I loved, who loved me not. I talked until I was
empty, and they were full. Only then did I realise how little
I had dreamed, and how empty my dreams had been.
When the first of them moved, it was like watching white silk
slowly unfurling in the breeze. I was not afraid as it came
towards me. Instead, itwas as though I were growing warmer,
stronger. It was sylphlike, graceful, as it came towards me.
I longed to be like it. I dreamed of floating beside it,
streaming in the breeze.
And when it stood before me, I gazed up at its fluid, pale,
form, which suddenly towered above me. I though of the one I
loved. It was so beautiful, and I knew that if only I were so
beautiful I would also be loved.
Then she touched me - and at once I knew that she was a woman,
for only a woman could touch like that. Only one touch, and I
was weeping. I wanted her to hold me - Tearmaker, I called
her, for one touch had made me cry. As the tears fell, she
stepped away from me, and put her body at a distance. Then
she crossed her arms across her chest, as though she were
embracing something, and she rocked back and forth, and her
breathing came chokingly. I could feel her holding me,
although she wasn't touching me. I held her back, without
touching her. Together we rocked, and swayed, and cried.
He did not move. He was destined never to move, only stay in
the corner breathing quietly, while we wept. Stillheart, I
called him, for he was like a tranquil pool waiting to be
disturbed.
I did not know how she could understand, at first. I didn't
know how she could cry with me. But as she cradled me, I
learned. She was afraid. She was scared that Stillheart
would fade back to where they had come from, and leave her
there alone. She was afraid that he did not love her enough
to take her home. She knew that only love would keep them
safe, and take them away from this alien world.
But if you doubt, I told her, surely you are putting that love
at risk.
But I am so afraid, she cried.
He sat silently in the corner breathing.
I wept. I am afraid too, I said. I am afraid that there is
no love, that no one will ever love me.
We swayed and wept together.
She said, I never knew, I never dreamed.
And I said, How did we both come to be aliens, wandering here
in a strange land?
And we sobbed, and comforted one another.
And I asked her, why?
And she said, I thought it would be better this way.
And I said, there is no better, it is all the same as this.
And we wept oceans, and he watched silently from the corner.
Then my beloved came. He sat in the corner, silent too. I
wanted to go to him, but I could not. I could not bear to be
rejected by him. He made me be distant.
There was no way home. We sat there until I woke.
