Misty Echos

I spend my days alone since we fought, since the night you denied our love.  Since that painfully clear moonlight night the weather has changed to fit my sorrow.  Now the night comes sooner, the mists rising to hide and muffle the world around me.  Isolating me in my agony and loneliness.1

Where once you walked by my side, holding my hand or your arm around my shoulders, I walk alone.  Instead of our soft words and gentle laughter, the sounds of my shoes gritting against the cobble stones, echoes around me seeming so loud to my ears.  The sounds of the city are new to me although I have walked this way for years.  Never before have I noticed the lapping of the canal against the bricks.  Now in my solitude, the world seems to shout around me, reminding me every moment that you are not there.2

For the last few weeks a new sound has made itself known to me. Another set of footsteps now matches mine.  They do not approach or recede; no mist-obscured stranger passes me in the night.  The first night I dismissed it, just another lost soul in the dimness.  The second night I began to listen to the steps, imagining them as yours.  They become almost the ghost of a companion to me.  Keeping me company in my walk home each evening.  Seeking to push you from my mind, I imagine the person making the echoing footsteps.  A secret admirer perhaps, a potential lover, someone I can pour my hurt, love and need into and receive love and comfort from.  Is he tall and dark or fair, will he laugh at my lame jokes or chide me for being silly.  I muse on how we shall finally meet, will I bravely turn to confront him or will one night the footsteps break the pattern and advance?3

This is my week to take care of Gran, as I near the turn to her house I feel a sense of loss, my footsteps will now echo alone once more as my shadow companion goes on in our normal path.  Turning for once reluctantly, I am lost in my thoughts until I hear the steps behind me.  How could he know, how could he see in the shadows that I had turned?  Who was this person who knew my ways, the ordering of my days?  4

Panic blooms in my heart, this companion darkens becomes menacing in the mists.  Shaking I hold my footsteps steady afraid to make a move that may betray my fear.  Looking up the hill I know I have several blocks to go.  This street is brighter at least; the moon shines down it brightening the mists into a swirling opalescence.  With each step the fear grows until I am panting with each one.  My nerves are singing, the skin on my back crawling and burning as if his eyes were reaching out to touch me.  5

Before I realize it, I am running full out towards the safety of Gran.  One thought pounds in my mind; that I have to reach Gran now, now before it is too late.  I no longer hear the echoes, I no longer hear him, just my rasping breath and my feet hitting the cobblestones and the resounding chorus of my fear, screaming at me to hurry, hurry!6

A shadow looms out of the mists in front of me.  With a breathless scream I try to stop, try to turn away but it’s to late, much to late.  Slipping on the damp cobbles I slam into his hard chest.  My hands coming up to shove away from him are prevented as his arms go around me, holding me tightly to him.  Suffocating in my terror I turn pleading eyes up to him, begging for release.  I see his lips moving but hear nothing, my ears muffled by the pounding of my heart.   Struggling wildly until his grip becomes almost painful, then stopping to stand shuddering against him, eyes closed, waiting for the end.7

Flinching as a hand brushes softly across my cheek, my eyes begin to open.  The hand continues around to bury itself deep in my hair, pulling me slowly into a long gentle tender kiss.  As the kiss ends I pull back eyes wide in shock to see you, grinning in your boyish little way, eyes twinkling and filled with love.  Finally hearing your words for the first time, “Silly woman, didn’t I always tell you I would be there.”8