The eternality in our ephemerality

Chapter 55. Over thinking is overkilling

The end of the day went in a foggy misleading blurr, as if memories were simply fading in each of the breaths I gave or each of the winds purl. Movies, glances, comments were simply glimpses of smiles and private jokes to which I wasn't invited. As if my head was literally out of place; in the same world, in the same place just not at the very same moment.

I wanted, better said, i neeeded to be alone with my grandma, but my mom insisted I bring my sister along. Lately, my sister's been making bad choices, hanging out with the wrong people and ignoring the truth about her boyfriend. My beautiful mom was really worried, really. Lately, my mom and I have been seeing firsthand how my sister is going downhill: she's doing things that only someone who doesn't know any better would do. Amd she doesn't even open up to us about it. She keeps believing that her boyfriend, Peter, is a good guy, even though we try to show her the truth. But every time we try, she just sinks deeper into her own world of unrealistic thinking....I truly wonder when, or even if, her eyes will open. And if they did, if they do: will she regret her actions and desperately cry? Or will she be as stubborn, as she is now, to neglect my comfort and my mothers wise mind?

My lips could not help but be crushed and bit in the moment those diabolical and machiavellian thoughts filled my mind.I felt guilty for having selfish thoughts about her, but I couldn't help it. I worried about her and wondered if she'd ever realize her mistakes.

With lowered, confused movements I silently crept my way out of the van, touching with the utmost unnecessary precaution- it all felt as an illusion. As if solid things were turning into gases, as if my whole bricked and cement walls were being slowly fading away like sand by the wind..... And the handle I pressed my hand on with such strength was melting below my fingers. Somehow everything felt like the past.

As if I had lived through this.... but the memory remained a mystery.

The thumping of my heart and the inquiries of my brain were the only facts that could still be felt to be within my timeline.

All I could think about was the blurry feeling of sadness that comes when you feel like nobody understands you and you'll never find someone who's right for you.

But now, all I could see was that i somehow had. I had found someone and yet, all i felt was the discomforting blurriness an afflicted heart can provoke on a misunderstood soul who thought their equal will never come along.

My blinks felt bizarre, as if my fluttering eyes were doing their motion for the very first time, the cracking of my lips tender skin when my teeth crushed them by unreliability, the passing of the wet, viscous saliva over my mouth and under my throat...

Each of my actions felt as if I had already done them but don't seem to remember when or how; as if my most basic actions have turned unreal, unusual. As if this that i have come to withhold has happened before. It felt as if the actions that were happening in this very same second where already done, painted, tattooed, foretold... I was simply following the script.

"Hello dear" My gaze jerked up, my eyes frantically searched for the source of such darling whispering; and then, like a plain clear sight in the eye of a hurricane my grandmother stood, hand on the door frame leaning with delicacy as her left hand rested on her hip. Chin high like her broad, dominant shoulders, her gentle smile tattooed on her lips.... All her taciturn excitement contained in the glimpses of her eyes and silent eagerness.

She laughs and hustles, twists and glances; she's sweet, but, as not everyone can admire the splendour of her true character, she is automatically locked in the gates of damsel in distress because of her quietness and fragile complexion. Unfortunately, she was encaged in those bars for too long because she even she believes so....To my luck, i looked exactly like she did, her genes and mine happened to be so similar, that she was just imprisoned to treat me like a china doll. She somehow was protecting herself by protecting me, or whatever of her she saw in me.