I want to Feel Something

“I want to feel something..Anything other than the cold.” He whispered. He was staring out the window into the darkness. Nothing stirred. No wind, no cooing sounds of the dove or the sound of the crickets. Everything was silent and foreboding as his mood was.

He turned around and looked at me beseechingly, begging me with his eyes to help him find what he had lost, or thought he had lost.

“Please….help me to feel again. There is nothing left but the cold in my heart. I can’t feel the warmth of anything, I’ve lost everything…”

I stood up, walking toward him; I could see the tears that glistened in the fire light start to fall and trail down his cheeks. My heart went out to him, wanting to just erase the pain that was there.

I put my arms around him, and tiptoed to kiss the tears from his cheeks. Salty they were, just like the sea. He closed his eyes, and put his arms around my body to hold me. I could smell his fear of things, the aroma of uncertainty that exuded from him was overwhelming. Never had I known him to be this way. He had always been the strong one. And now, he seemed to be a broken shell of a man, a ghost of the former self that he was. His shoulders seemed bent, like the weight of the world was on him. His voice had cracked just slightly, something I had never known of it doing before tonight.

My heart ached for him, so much that I wanted to tell him, but couldn’t form the words to say. It was as if they were stuck in my throat, not willing to be coaxed out for any reason. All I could do was just hold him there, my head on his broad chest, trying to pretend that I heard his heart beat, like I had so many years ago.

He had lost her once again. He had tried to save her this time, but failed. And this was the end result of the whole mess.

“Just be with me tonight, don’t leave me.” He whispered in my ear.

 I looked up at him, the torture on his face brought tears to my own eyes. He had loved her I know. He had wanted right for her. He had tried. And here he was, coming to me to save him. Did he have that much faith in me? What could I do for him?  I had always tried so hard to stay in the background until he needed me. I never wanted to interfere in his life, other than to be just a shadow on the wall. I stayed lowed, played low, and never caused a ripple in his pond. But he always knew that when he needed me I would be there.

I had been his saving grace for a long time it seemed. I remembered him in the sunlight, before the night fell and cast its’ dark shadow upon his mortal body. I had been there, in the blackness of his grave, watching, as she waited for him to rise. And then, I left. I saw him over the years, and he would acknowledge, but never call me out. She never knew, but would look at me with that ‘I know you from somewhere, don’t I’ look.

Still, after all this time, I was here not willing to let go. He had run into me, quite by accident a few years ago. I had gone to another place, not knowing that he had been there. It was like a blood tie with us it seemed. Regardless of where I thought I could go and not run into him, he was there. Or, if I was there first, he was sure to follow, never knowing why. We always ended up in the same place, whether we ever acknowledged seeing each other or not. There were times that yes, we went for years living in the same town, knowing that both of us were there and never seeing each other, living our own lives with whomever was there for each of us at the time.

Unfortunately with him, there could never be anyone. Not anyone he could truly love. There was that one time, yes, with dire results for everyone involved. I think that she was his first true love, and up until now, this moment, his only true love. Yes, he had thought he loved many, but she had been the one. And she left him. Again. She turned her back on him, and all I could do was stand still until he found me this time.  This time, I would not let go. So many times I had. I had turned and walked away myself from him in order to be able to have some semblance of life myself.

She had known what he had been doing here since he hit the city. It was the old search and rescue thing. Helping the hopeless, fighting evil and all that. Certainly quite a change from the old ways, but she was never allowed to interfere with the natural order of life.

That was something she had learned from childhood. Who lived and who  was usually left in the hands of the Powers. Regardless of what man thought about having a free will, or knowing their destiny, they actually knew nothing at all. It was all a ruse, a myth planted by pranksters who loved to watch the stories of the ages play out. Oh! Not that there weren’t surprises along the way. Two with a soul was a definite surprise to them, and the hidden one that came back human. That wasn’t on the agenda either. The Powers had their opponents, just like a magnet with polar opposites. One needed the other to balance out the universe.

In the end, there was always some one higher up than the other pulling strings to the puppets on this earth, the living and the undead.

Some would argue that it just wasn’t meant for someone to die at that time. Then you had others to argue that yes, you could cut your life short with how you lived or what your occupation was. The truth was: you died when you died. You left at the time you were supposed to. Not a minute later, not a minute sooner. There was no such thing as dying too young, or living too old.

There was how ever, the way a life is lived, who is affected by it, and how it is perceived to the world.

He had lived a life of leisure and class. He had only affected a few and the world never thought anything of him.

It was only until he died, that the impact was made. That was when his life truly began. And through it all, he had found me, yet again. He came to me yet again. And yes, I accepted him with open arms. I could never turn him away, no matter what had happened.

I looked up at him and grasped his hand. He took it and I led him down the long hallway and through the double French doors into the bedroom. I slowly unbuttoned his long sleeved black shirt that he was so fond of wearing. Johnny Cash had modeled his look after him, and it actually suited both men, in appearance and in mood. He sat obediently down on the bed as I got on my knees to remove his shoes. I raised his feet up, laying him down on the soft comforter to rest. He was tired, so tired. I could see it in his features. A life time, more than a life time of fighting was prominent, making his brow furrow, him running his hands through his hair…

I went over to the c.d. player and put on some Brahms. The lulling melody drifted out from all parts of the room, as I dimmed the lights low. I walked over to the bed to lie down next to him.

His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling with each breath. My hand went up to touch his face, to feel it under my fingertips once again. He reached up, and held my hand to his lips, sighing heavily.

I had missed his touch. I had missed his body next to mine, waking during the hours just to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming yet again, knowing that all too soon he would be gone back into the night. My heart quickened at the thought of him here, and old feelings started to come up to the surface. I had long ago wished they would just disappear, as he did, for years at a time.

I couldn’t help but to press my lips on his cold cheek, as he turned and kissed me, long and languid. He arm came around me pulling my body close to his.

“I need to feel you. Just for tonight, let me feel your warmth again. Tonight let me feel like I matter to someone. That I matter to you…”

Tears began to fall from my eyes, as I couldn’t hold back any longer. I was strong when it came to him, but there were times, just like this one that my heart cried for all the suffering he had endured thanks to her.

“My Angel, You have always mattered. You have mattered always to me, all along.”

I held him, whispering to him of the old times we had shared. His body finally began to relax, and soon he was quietly sleeping, legs splayed over mine, his arm tight around my hips.

I slowly slid out from under his arm and scooted out from his legs. I quietly closed the bedroom door and went back down the hallway to the office that was off from the living room.

I flipped on the light which bathed the room in that sickly yellow glow of fluorescent. I went over to the key pad and coded in the numbers. A second later the wall disappeared to reveal an arsenal of weapons. I just had a small collection, but it was the quality of what I had, not the quantity. They had always been a passion of mine.

There was the sword of Alexander, a dagger from Brutus that had sunk deep into Ceaser. There was the gun of a small time bank robber named Kid, and another one of a tiny little wanna be actor named Booth. There were more swords and guns, but I was hunting for something far more deadly.

I rummaged through the drawers that held arsenic caplets, Chinese stars, knives, and various other things until finally in the fifth drawer down I spied what I came for. It had been a very long time since I had used it. I brought it out, throwing it from hand to hand. It was sleek, eight inches long and a deep honey color.  It had the perfect balance of any weapon I had, even the swords. I could put it on the tip of my finger and it would rest there, not making a move to fall.

I twirled it a few times and stuck it in the back of my jeans.

This one thing was my prize possession out of it all. My mother had given it to me when I was a small child, and although strange as it would sound to some, the meaning behind it was even more profound.

I went back to check on him, and as I thought, sound asleep. He would sleep for a long time as worn out as he had been.

I grabbed the keys to the bike off the table along with my I pod. I ran through the songs till I found the right one…

I never told him that I was the daughter of a carpenter. Or that my mother had been a whore…I never told him that my favorite weapon of choice was a stick fashioned from the very piece of wood that secured the death of my daddy….everybody had just thought I had been another unassuming slayer…

I smiled. George Michael came on and I cranked it up as I went out the door…

Before this river
Becomes an ocean
Before you throw my heart back on the floor
Oh baby I reconsider
My foolish notion
Well I need someone to hold me
But I’ll wait for something more

Yes I’ve gotta have Faith...