Counterpoint

Chapter 13

Jefferson

   I can't find any words. This is such a painful and peculiar state to be placed in. Throughout my entire life I have never found myself to be struggling to form coherent thought and witty responses to particularly stupid questions or remarks. The well of my creativity has run dry as I sit on this couch as still as stone. My muscles have become rigid as my mind races over everything that had just transpired, all my mind can focus on is the way that the tears had flowed down Alexander's face. Every time I blink I see them glimmering in the light and dripping off of his chin or coating his fingers as he tries to hide his face. It infuriates me.

   Alexander shifts slightly on the far side of the couch, the blanket he had thrown over my legs slipping off of me with his movement. I glance over curiously as he quickly throws the blanket back over my legs, as if it were the most important and natural thing for him to be doing in this very instant. He doesn't even waste it a second thought as he turns his attention back to the t.v and whatever late night show is on right now. I have no idea what channel the t.v is on right now, I have been so lost in my own thoughts that there were moments where I had failed to remember that the t.v was even on in the first place. 

   Why am I being so consumed by these thoughts? It is distracting and I don't know how to make them stop. I have never experienced anything quite like this, something so all consuming and blinding. I can't seem to wrap my mind around it. My eyes close briefly as I blink, a silver flash of tears ignites in the darkness behind my eyelids. My fingers curl tightly into fists underneath the blanket as the silver glow of those cursed drops of moisture sparkle and glow like haunted stars in the darkness of my eyes. I cannot escape their haunting glow, their beauty and sadness tormenting me with every brief glance I get of them. 

   I want nothing more than to slip away from this room and hide out inside of the safety of my bedroom until I am able to sort through all of these thoughts. To sit on my bed and think in silence about what I had just witnessed and what is refusing to leave me. One glance over at Alexander kills that thought as he sits underneath the blanket with his knees curled up to his chest as he quietly chews on his bottom lip, arms crossed across his chest. His usually pulled back hair has fallen into ragged strands that frame his face and I find myself struggling to look away as I stare at him out of the corner of my eye. Even when watching t.v. he always seems to have such a focused gaze as if he is studying the program and thinking through how he can improve it or replace it with something of his own creation. 

   To him the world is a canvas that has already been painted. It is the sole purpose of his existence to find the flaws and cracks in the ancient paint and strengthen the bones that had been left behind or replace them all together with something even more beautiful. I wonder if he ever sees himself as something larger than life, because that's how I see him sometimes. He goes through life with such purpose and determination that he sometimes appears to me as more than human, a being completely transcendent from humanity. I find myself hating him for it....But it would be dishonest of me to say that hate is the only emotion present.

   A quiet laugh escapes Alexander and I blink in surprise, my revery being completely interrupted by the sound. I glance back at the t.v. and see that the channel is comedy central and some comedian that I have never heard of is strutting across the stage and telling some ridiculous story that I am certain is fabricated. A small smile is shining on his face as he listens intently to the comedian. I think this is the first time I have ever seen him genuinely laugh like this. Strange. So strange. 

   "He's pretty good." He murmurs with a laugh. 

   "Yeah." I reply slowly. His eyes find their way to my face and I can tell from the way his eyes narrow slightly that he sees right through me. He always had been so good at piercing right through people's veils, it would appear that I am no exception to his talents. 

   "You weren't even listening, were you?"

   "Not really." I confess with a slight shrug. "I'm tired, I find it be a bit difficult for me to listen."

   "If you are so tired then why not go to bed?"

   "I don't feel like going there just yet." 

   "I don't understand your sense of reasoning." he mutters. 

   "The feeling is mutual." His eyes narrow as he glances back over at me. "Now you know how everyone else feels when you suddenly jump to an epiphany that no one else would ever be able to reach." 

   "It's not my fault that no one else can keep up with my train of thought."

   "Did I say there was something wrong with that?" His lips part slightly as if to form more words but not a single syllable is uttered. "It's not a crime to be intelligent, however it is a shame when you use your intelligence as a weapon." 

   "It is the only weapon I possess." he murmurs softly. 

   "Then perhaps I could suggest attempting to use it with a bit more tact." 

   "Why should I take any advice from you? You make it a point to attack me with your intelligence every opportunity you get." 

   "Believe me when I say that I am not as brilliant as everyone believes me to be." I reply softly. "Take my personal advice and try to use your intelligence as a guiding arrow instead of a sword to skewer your potential allies with." There is a moment of silence as we both regard each other with guarded expressions. 

   "I'll consider it." He mutters. 

   "That's all I ask." 

   Think it over Hamilton. See the gift that you have been given and how it can be used a rope to pull you out of the darkness that you have thrown yourself into head first. Your brilliant mind can do so much more than destroy and rebuild financial and political policies. Use your gifts to rebuild your own life, protect what you have left to protect and lead yourself back to the light. I know that you can find it and that if anyone can ever truly reach it, you would be the one standing within the heavenly glow of grace and redemption. 

   Save yourself, just as I wish that I could.