Interlinked

Epilogue

I was told no one was notified of the update so I fixed the issue I guess.

Epilogue:

   Moving slowly, I pace back and forth, what have I done, what have we done? We've lost a war we never meant to start? Or we jumped into a universe only two souls belonged to , half from each to build one heart? Are we reconnected? Recollected? Interlinked? For I have lost my sight, with every piece I've lost since the last time we loved.

  Did we love? That is a question I always ask myself? Or did we hate but just got used to one another's presence? Did I cry the night they told me you died? Did I fall asleep with a blanket on the balcony where I waited and waited for you to wake me up from this horrible dream? Did my body shake, ache, and probably break, whenever I was told of the news where you just happened to leave this world without saying goodbye?

   Because I still remember that one night I came home from the hospital and sat down on the couch just waiting for your reply – but you never answered. I waited more, and thought of that one time we danced on nothing, we fought in a place surrounded by drunken people and loud music. That one concert, oh don't you remember? Or did you forget - now that you've traveled to your own universe? And when I waited for longer, I remembered the first time I felt we were connected. It was just you and I... almost like two broken mirrors trying to be glued but were hurting the souls around them – but oh lord how I loved it. How I loved you.

   You don't know how much I loved your laugh, and how much I adored the way you smiled or tried to keep yourself together by biting your lower lip; gritting your teeth, clenching your jaw and tightening your grip. You had your own ways to show people what you truly were.

   Your art, oh heavens, and your scent. That rough scent of charcoal in which it hugged the skin of your thumb and your forefinger, still scars my heart and soul.

  "Raquel?" Mason touches my shoulder from behind. I'm startled as a matter fact and disappointed to be brought back to reality: sat in the dorm with warmth filling the place, as the wind of December ruins nature outside.

"Hmm?" My eyes still scanning the rough piece of inked paper, I hum in response.

"Back to writing?" He worriedly asks. I can sense that tone even though my eyes are not meeting with his.

  Slowly, I turn around with a nugget forming in the back of my throat. I nod, and I notice how his knees bend. He is now crouching and his face is in level to mine. I breathe out slowly, and I notice that he really seems to carry the worry in those brown eyes of his. "Ray?" He whispers, and that sort of breaks my heart.

"Don't call me that. I don't think I can have someone calling me that without having-" it's almost as if I'm not receiving as much air needed to survive in this lit room.

"Tell me? I know what this is about," he says as his head moves for him to scan what I was writing on my desk. "But it's always good to talk to a friend about it. Right?" I swallow my tears, and focus on the fact he called us friends but last year I was ready to rip his head off. Oh how things change.

"But this won't be the first time I talk about this subject." I take in a deep breath.

"And it won't be the last time either and I won't nag about you talking about this subject as well." He replies, soft features paint his face.

"But doesn't it bother you at some point?" I ask him but he slowly shakes his head no. "Talking about that same old pain doesn't bother you?"

"It's still a fresh wound. And deep wounds take time to heal." His voice was calm.

"But this is not just a simple wound, Mason."