To eternity

Cuando yo me vaya, no quiero que llores, quédate en silencio, sin decir palabras, y vive recuerdos, reconforta el alma. Cuando yo me duerma, respeta mi sueño, por algo me duermo; por algo me he ido.Si sientes mi ausencia, no pronuncies nada, y casi en el aire, con paso muy fino, búscame en mi casa, búscame en mis libros, búscame en mis cartas, y entre los papeles que he escrito apurado.Ponte mis camisas, mi sweater, mi saco y puedes usar todos mis zapatos. Te presto mi cuarto, mi almohada, mi cama, y cuando haga frío, ponte mis bufandas. Te puedes comer todo el chocolate y beberte el vino que dejé guardado.Escucha ese tema que a mí me gustaba, usa mi perfume y riega mis plantas. Si tapan mi cuerpo, no me tengas lástima, corre hacia el espacio, libera tu alma, palpa la poesía, la música, el canto y deja que el viento juegue con tu cara. Besa bien la tierra, toma toda el agua y aprende el idioma vivo de los pájaros. Si me extrañas mucho, disimula el acto, búscame en los niños, el café, la radio y en el sitio ése donde me ocultaba.No pronuncies nunca la palabra muerte. A veces es más triste vivir olvidado que morir mil veces y ser recordado. Cuando yo me duerma, no me lleves flores a una tumba amarga, grita con la fuerza de toda tu entraña que el mundo está vivo y sigue su marcha.La llama encendida no se va a apagar por el simple hecho de que no esté más.Los hombres que “viven” no se mueren nunca, se duermen de a ratos, de a ratos pequeños, y el sueño infinito es sólo una excusa. Cuando yo me vaya, extiende tu mano, y estarás conmigo sellada en contacto, y aunque no me veas, y aunque no me palpes, sabrás que por siempre estaré a tu lado. Entonces, ese día, sonriente y vibrante, sabrás que volví para no marcharme.*

-Carlos Alberto Boaglio-

Therisa enters with that bitter drink. She leaves it over the table and smiles at me. 

“Here it is, mother. Your medicine. Be careful, it’s still hot”

As  if I couldn’t see the fumes getting out of the boiling water. I look at  it, then back at my daughter. I have raised quite a litter of shems, I think with a bitter smile, and I’m proud of them. Shane and Therisa, with their rounded ears, will have a better life than any elf in the alienage will. Round ears. Nobody would say they’re not shems. But Therisa’s red hair is like mine used to be, and her green eyes… her green eyes are Kyle’s… Kyle, my love. Where are you?

“Where's your father?”, I ask suddenly. Therisa’s face darkens.

"He's gone, mom. You always forget. Two years ago"

She’s  right. I always forget. Yes. My mind is merciful, because I don't want to remember the terrible loneliness of these two years without him. And the day I lost him. The memories come back like lighting, and like lighting they strike my head and almost make me fall. He was ill, so ill the last months! His bleeding cough, that cough he never completely healed, had become worse, and it was draining his strength day after day. He fought against it, being in the bed was not his style, but the healers insisted. But he always yelled back at them “If you can’t cure it, stop making my suffering longer!”, and I tried to calm him, because, selfishly, I didn’t want him to go yet.

And one night I heard him roar, and I opened my eyes to see a couple of catlike ones blink, and a panther shape jumping through the window. I got up as fast as my old body allowed me, and I still could see him, also clumsily… an old, wasted big cat, walking heavily to the forest. I ran out of the house, and wandered in the woods, an old crazy elf lady, until a blood trail confirmed my worst fears, and led me to his wounded, dying body. His old naked body, human again, still beautiful despite the years and the scars and the disease, beautiful for me at least, because his beauty never faded before my eyes. His chest was still moving, crossed by outrageous traces of a swipe, and I guessed he had escaped to have a last fight with a bear, a wolf or another beast… to avoid a painful, slow death in the bed.

I rushed to him, and grabbed his head. He still could see me, a very last sparkle of life in his eyes. There were no words. I took his last breath with a kiss, which tasted like blood, goodbye, bitterness and eternal loneliness. Last thing I stole, last thing I kept from him… Funny to think, all started with a stolen kiss… all finished with one too.

Therisa and her husband found me hugging his corpse, that I had covered with my cloak. There were no questions. Just understanding looks, and a comforting pair of hands on my shoulders leading me back home, my eyes full of tears, my heart broken… my bed empty…

Why did I have to ask, to bring the painful memories back? He must be happy, peaceful now, making up for the lost time with Lindy. Thanks the Maker I forget recent things easily, while I remember better the old ones. Like the first time I met him. How he kissed my hand, making me blush for the very first time in my life. That big, handsome, clumsy knight who ignored the fact that I was a filthy elf covered in mud and called me “My lady…”

My hands shake. I have become much weaker these two years without him, as if my body was in a hurry to join him. Part of the drink I’m trying to bring to my lips falls, and Therisa rushes to help me. I wave her away, and she sighs and leaves the room.

“Take care, mom. The night is cold. I’ll come to fetch the empty bowl later”

I  just grunt. I don't mind if this drink is spoiled. It's bitter. More bitter than ale. The ale he used to invite me to… How he comforted me when I got drunk and started to cry. Then he convinced me cider was healthier. Cider… sweeter, and hangovers weren’t so bad. I even stopped crying, but that was because by his side I was happy. What reasons did I  have to cry? He’s always been the only one to stand by my side. Never needed anyone else, never will. Without him, I am nothing.

I  shiver and rub my forehead, trying to remember what was I thinking about. I feel tired, I should go to bed. But I don't want to go to bed. It's cold without him. Where's he? He must be training… I don’t like to sleep alone. The demons will come for me. But there are no demons anymore. They’re gone. Even so I still miss him when he's not here. I miss even the way his cough has become worse lately… He shouldn’t go out  to train. He’s not young anymore. The cold… the cough will kill him. I’ll tell him when he comes back…

Suddenly  I realize again he’s not coming back. He’s dead. I always forget. And my heart aches like all the times I remember. And it burns so painfully I  make the damn drink fall while I try to get up to reach the bed, but my  legs can’t stand my weight anymore, and I fall. It is funny, because I’ve always been so thin, so skinny… He always teased me, said he had to  make me fat, and he actually did it… Twice, I smirk, with his two shem kids inside my tummy, but then I recovered my thin shape after the birth… And how he loved my tiny breasts and my now wrinkled ass… Still pinches it sometimes… the pervert. I smile faintly at the memory. He will never change... Therisa says now I am even skinnier, but I’m not hungry anymore… Who cares? I’m an old woman… Nobody likes an old skinny elf…

I see someone. Dark hair, handsome, young. Must be Shane. I try to focus my old eyes to see him better. What are you doing here my son? I though you were travelling, brave, adventuring like your father liked to do. But not… This knight… those green eyes, and the magnificent falcon on his shoulder… Can it be?  

“Kyle?” I mumble, and I realize I’m lying on the floor. When did I fall?. “My love?”

He  takes my hand, my old, wrinkled hand, on his young, strong one, and helps me to get up. But… my hand is not old anymore. What kind of witchcraft is this? I’m probably dreaming, but I don’t care. My love is here.

"I thought you'd be with Lindy", I say softly, because I can’t believe he’s here for me.

"She  stopped waiting for me when she healed my eye, remember?", he smiles, and his smile warms my heart and enlightens my soul, and suddenly I feel  no pain anymore. “I come for you, love”

"You've been waiting for me?", I ask astonished. “Those two years?”

I  see by the corner of my eye a shape lying on the floor, and a part of me knows it’s my useless shell… something I need to leave behind, if I want to join the man I love where we do belong: together. Poor Therisa, I  think with a lucid part of my mind. This will break her heart. But I don’t care. He’s here. We’re together again.

“Watching you. Waiting for you”, he nods. “Always”

So  that’s why I always felt him near, I think. Why my mind always rejected  to accept he was gone. Why I always had the feeling he was still by my side and why I always woke up thinking I had been walking with him on dreams. I embrace him, and I shiver when I feel again his hands stroking  my hair, which I’m sure it is red again.

“Thanks… for coming for me” I whisper. “I wish you had come earlier…”

"And  miss how well you were doing without me?" he teases. "But no. I was not  allowed to do it. I had to wait until it was time”, he says, serious.

"Until  my heart broke", I say sad, grabbing his hand and putting it over my chest. He grins, even if the feeling is not the same. Our flesh is not there, our souls will tangle in a different way. But the memories perdure, and that makes me grin too.

“I  would have waited all eternity for you", he finally says, leaning to kiss me. Now I feel complete. As if I had joined a part of me I missed. Probably he feels the same. And before he guides me out of this realm, he looks at me again and touches my cheek lovingly.

"And now eternity awaits for us", I still hear him say.


* When I am gone, I don’t want you to cry, just stay silent, say no words, and live your memories, comfort the soul. When I am asleep, respect my sleep, there’s a reason why I sleep, there’s a reason why I’m gone. If you feel my absence, pronounce nothing, and almost in the air, with a slight step, look for me in my home, look for me in my books, look for me in my letters and in the papers I wrote in a hurry. Wear my shirts, my sweater, my sack and you can use all my shoes. I lend you my room, my pillow, my bed, and when it is cold, wear my scarfs. You can eat all the chocolate and drink the wine I stored. Listen to that theme I liked, use my perfume and water my plants. If they cover my body, don’t be sorry, run towards the space, free your soul, touch the poetry, the music, the songs, and let the wind play with your face. Kiss the earth, take all the water and learn the living language of the birds. If you miss me too much, conceal the act, look for me in the children, the cofee, the radio and that place I used to hide. Never pronounce the word death. Sometimes it is sadder to live forgotten than to die a thousand times and being remembered. When I’m asleep, don’t bring flowers to a bitter grave, shout with all the strenght of your guts that the world is alive and continues spinning. The lit flame won’t quench just because I am no more. Men who “live” never die, they sleep from time to time, short times, and the infinite sleep is just an excuse. When I am gone, lend your hand and you’ll be with me, sealed in contact, and even if you don’t see me, and even if you don’t touch me, you’ll know I will always be by your side. Then, that day, smiling and radiant, you’ll know I came back not to leave again.