Impossibility

Impossibility

         Had I not come from a womb of heat and earth, and he from one of flesh, things might have been different. Many things could have altered the course of our existence; he could have left me in the ground, chosen another piece of metamorphic rock to transform, yet it was I who was pried from the earth, from my mother.

         I do not remember much of my time before my rebirth, my life without him. I remember peace. The earth was not a place of violence or hatred; it was simply a place to be, a place to exist. He brought me into his world, and I hated him for it at first, but it ultimately made me love him more.

         He was young when he took me to his studio, perhaps not yet a man. For the few sunrises, he only paced around me, observing my potential, yet not quite sure where to begin. He began soon enough. The chisel was not painful, but exciting. I had confidence in his abilities as he scraped away my imperfections, bringing me closer to beauty.

         Twice was the moon full before he finished. I was a stunning creation, a rival even to the Venus de Milo, yet he didn't seek to barter me away. I was placed in the garden, a centerpiece amongst daffodils and seedlings. Every morning he would descend from his farmhouse to spend time with me. He spoke to me with his soft voice, to which I could not reply. He treated me almost as an equal, though our only similarity was my humanlike appearance.

         As the years passed, the mornings became my greatest desire, for he came without fail. I began to think that perhaps he adored me the way I did him, but one morning, he came not alone.

         I was her image. The very contours of my face were identical to hers. They held hands, observing me. Although we looked the same, she held things I could never possess. Never would I be able to breathe him in, take his hand, caress his lips. The brief romance between my sculptor and me was something imagined by me. Since the beginning, I knew things would have to come to this, but until I saw him with her I refused to accept it.

         The visits were far less frequent after that. From full moon to the next, he would visit me perhaps twice. Then, the visits stopped altogether. The plants around me began to grope their way up my legs, and I could do nothing about it. I was still the beauty he created, but I felt worthless, neglected.

         I wasn't aware of the war until I saw him leave. She waved at him with tears in her eyes as he left the house in uniform. I remember his final glance towards me; it was sorrowful, like he'd just realized at that moment that I might feel pain, that I might feel alone. He raised his hand in goodbye, as if he knew I could see him. And in that moment, I forgave him.



         One month later, he came home in an urn made from my sisters. If my structure had not been so strong, I would have crumbled beneath anguish. Everything brought me pain. The sun in the sky reminded me of the countless mornings with him, and after it hid behind the horizon, I thought about the long nights where I would await his coming.

         The first sunrise was the most arduous. The black of the sky faded to a light blue, with the undercurrents of purple and pink hinting at the sun's arrival. I saw her then; his wife. She stood at the crest of a hill in the distance, holding him. Holding the man I loved.

         She released him into the wind, a creek of tears etching down her face. He would return to the earth, become a part of her. I longed to cast myself into the wind with him, to be part of the earth once more as well, for then we would be one. My wish came soon enough.

         A dull drone of planes rippled through the still evening. I saw his wife leave the house with no more than a satchel of possessions. Explosions began around me, tearing up the saplings that had now grown stronger, destroying the small house in which my love once lived. The next one didn't miss me.

         I settled back into the ground as dust. The evening turned to night, then again the sky hinted at the approach of the sun. As it peeked its head above the expanse of my mother, a breeze lifted me off the ground and into the air. My love was ashes and I, dust, but finally, after so long, we were together.