An almost deadly trilogy part three; In Sanity.

I told you I was afraid of you leaving. You told me that love is not ever fleeting. You told me that it would have never been sudden. You told me that you would talk to me first, that it won’t be a burden. You watched me die along the other side of your window, behind the door, through the hallway, into the fountain. I sat by the fountain, by the ball, by the entrance near the hall, just to measure the depth. I sat in the backseat, after the parking lot, along your mighty gates, just to measure the breadth. I sat in the driving car, in front of my citrusy screen, alongside the horrid lines that I could not read in between, just to see the mountain. The lines you deliver never get lost in transit; they exist beyond time and space. They exist in a space that allows them to define forever, beyond the new year mountain, beyond the fountain we once surrounded. The rhythm of the water droplets hitting your bedside window, to the scent of the room you allow me to inhabit that wreaks through my soul in love. They create a dimension that shall function simultaneously to those around it, overpowering those who obstruct it, overcoming the violence that interferes with its beauty. I told you that my future is ideal with you as my wife. You told me that I cannot make such grand promises about my life. You told me that you are uncertainly certain about my existence in the future. You told me that my pain is wrong unless I describe it within the presence of my abuser. You watched me die along the other side of the line, through my front door, through the corridor, into my bedroom. I sat in bed, by the charger, as words got harsher, till the point where I lost all my armour, just to find a reason to live. I laid in bed, by the phone, as the words depleted the tone, till the cold was running through my bones, just to realise that I have nothing left to give. I prepared to ask the final question, just to know if reality is this gloomy so that I can fail to ever put into words your cruelty. I remain your fleeting object in a dark room.