Oblivion🐾 | ✔

the meeting

"I want to live!" was what Jasper told me just as soon as we began talking. We were at the bus station, I waiting for a cab or something to take me to work and he was, he—had been there long since I was, even before. I don't know what he was doing, probably lurking or something but he kept kicking cans of opened drinks around on the sidewalk and the numerous stops that pulled, wasn't going where he was, or he didn't indicate so.

At first when I met him here, he scared me a bit. Who wouldn't be seeing a man in a black hoodie and black sweatpants, also carrying a black bag. As humans, it's in our nature to judge and I just assumed he was a thief or worse case, a suicide bomber but then, he looked up at me from the park bench he had been sitting on then and smiled—it disarmed me—showing me his pearly whites. I was stunned for a full minute because, one, he had a beautiful smile and two his eyes were the most beautiful shade of black. Dark but not quite.

All I could do after getting over my shock was smile back at him from where I stood by the lamp post that was lit as it was already getting dark, smiling at the total stranger who stood up and slowly walked to me.

"Hi, there!" unlike his black get-up, he had a bubbly tone. That kind that sounded like bells were ringing as he spoke. That kind of voice that was loud and called for attention. The kind of voice that reminded you of guitar strokes. That kind of voice you would like talking everyday to you.

Adjusting the strap of my shoulder bag on my right arm, I smiled. I'm pretty averse to talking to strangers and can be a shy cat at times so I nodded at him and his smile widened—if possible to the point of his grin cracking.

"I'm Jasper," not minding that I hadn't said a word to him, he introduced, bringing his hand out for me to shake on. I only looked at it, the halo of light by my side reflecting on his hand. I noticed they were big and deathly pale—I ignored this—and his fingers were adorned with many rings. It was beautiful, and showed that he was an artist, due to the paint on his fingernails that probably hadn't gotten off though it showed he tried.

Though skeptic, I removed my hand which had been guarding my bag and gently placed it in his. Not looking at his eyes, though I was sure they were smiling down on me, and placed my own small feminine hands in his.

He didn't cover it immediately allowing me enough time to marvel at the sight. My small hands in his big ones were like a big hard shell, hiding a delicate treasure in it. His being the shell. It was such a...perfect fit. And so picture perfect that it was a sight that was tumblr worthy, even We Heart It worthy. A picture you would want to take and save as your lock screen background so you could constantly lock your phone to admire.

I had almost whisked my phone out to take the picture when he now enclosed his shell against mine, tugging me towards him. I was forced to look at him now as his eyes searched mine. And as we held gaze, I forgot everything as he dragged me closer. I didn't understand why I wasn't scared.

I forgot where I was standing, forgot where I was going, forgot what I was doing. I just forgot and only saw his eyes, the swirling pool of darkness that held so much yet so little. The eyes that held me and looked as if it never wanted to let me go. The eyes that made me feel like I deserved the moon. The hold that made me feel I should never be let go of. His eyes were like the backdrop of my being

It was only later I found out that he was like this.

Until he let go of me then I came to the startling realization of red and white flashing lights, blaring horns and whirling airplanes above.

Awkwardly I coughed and he moved away and started kicking stray cans on the street, while I waited, avoiding his eyes--I didn't want to fall. Both literally and figuratively.

"I want to live," my eyes immediately flew to his, startled at the sudden confession.

My "What?" came out in a squeak and I had to clear my throat and ask again, I very confused.

He smiled up at me and elaborated as I clung to his every word enchanted, as he said, his words swirling my world into oblivion as I grew enraptured with his mouth, his tongue, his pink cupid bow shaped lip—the way he enunciated his words, sounding like a beautifully sung melody that I didn't want to cease listening to—ever.

"Can't you see," then he widened his arms to everything else excluding us and I was forced to look around. He had that way about him.

"This is life alright," he began. "You wake up in the morning, go to work, work for 8, 9, 10? hours, then it's dark, then you go back home and sleep and the rest of the days continues like that."

I thought he was finished with the dramatic pause at the end, but he continued, "Then the weekends, you rest. You rest and sleep and go to dinner with family, go to visit your parents, go to the park, meet up with a loved one or something, anything to make the weekend pass and work begins, again. A vicious cycle," he said rotating his arms in a clockwise motion. I still watched him wondering where he was getting at.

"But really, is that all what this life is about, doing the same old thing, in the same old boring manner. Forgetting to enjoy. Forgetting to be happy. What happened to when we were young and we were vying to grow older because we could finally enjoy all of life? Live and be happy, live and try something different, try something new, be free? And then we grow up and realize that time had passed us by and we ask ourselves, "where did all the time go?" when did everything all turn to this? Why did life end up like this? Why can't we live without living?" and I knew this time he had finished because he exhaled out a long breath as if he finally released all the bondage in his chest. Like he had been waiting for me.

I wanted to reply, wanted to say something, probably a dumb thing because I didn't know how to answer him but before I could, my stop came and I was pushed by other passengers I hadn't noticed, into the bus.

I tried to go down but they were all so much, and I was small. Grudgingly, I went to find a window seat hoping we were headed the same way or I could communicate to him through the window.

No luck there.

He was no longer where I was, where we were and he was also not in the bus.

He had vanished into oblivion and I was distraught because it was over and I hadn't been able to say that life was and is evil like that. That was my plain answer.

Maybe I should end it better. I really love how I spun this in just an hour. I'm really proud.