Amaryllis

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Shinedown – Amaryllis

‘I don’t want to tell you who I am,’ she whispers just as I’m thinking how much I want her to keep talking.
I want her to talk to me until I know enough to make her the main character of a novel I’d never even thought of before her.
‘You don’t have to,’ I say, ‘but I would love to discover you.’
‘Create me, then.’
She takes my hand and wraps it around her waist, and as I hold her I think that maybe this girl shouldn’t be out there. I shouldn’t think of her as a character, artistic as that might be. She doesn’t need to belong to the world. She doesn’t even have to belong to me. Some paintings aren’t meant to be exposed, they’re only meant to express something.
To keep flirting with God’s masterpiece feels almost embarrassing. I just want to capture her essence and remember it forever; but then I remember that she is in my arms and I hug her tightly one more time. I don’t want to waste this second with stupid attempts to immortalise it. It’s fading already. She reaches for the lighter, and we share a cigarette in silence, shared loneliness, noises of the streets and of the skies.
I don’t care who she is, I’m in love with her already, or I’m in love with the man she’s turning me into  it’s too early to make the difference.
Tomorrow is all up to her, but for now I’ll shut the windows and lock the door if I have to, because tonight she won’t slip through my fingers.

An old almost lover wrote this about me. I still remember it, word for word, like some kind of lovely curse. It makes me smile when I run out of reasons.

Well, people do what they want and usually hate it after. Eventually he hated it when he found out that what he thought I was wasn’t really me. The next morning, I ran back home and vanished from his life. The truth is that I don’t know how to be out in the open. I never did.

The grass did look greener on his side, but I knew I wasn’t going to make it all the way there and frankly, I didn’t want to. The only place where I allow my feelings to exist is in my art. Any form of affection I felt for him that night was nothing else but fuel to my fire. As for him, he was only a raw sketch, an undefined character, inspiration. That’s about how much people like him mean to me — and it’s funny, because I’m talking about people at their most lovable, when I want to wrap my fingers around theirs and read with my feet entangled to theirs, and think of never letting go. But I don’t, because thinking creates feelings, then feelings kill the mind; so much for thinking.

I should have told him that from the very start, should have told him Baby, nobody can give you them so you can be you, because that’s just not the way it works. Write until it’s strange and quiet inside your head, then sleep on it. You’ll wake up feeling fresh and strong and I’ll be nothing more than last night’s mysterious girl. You can not possibly love such a thing. Love is either mutual or stupid. There. A few more seeds in the ground.

But of course, I didn’t. I let him trace me, line by line, until a wave of warmth washed over me and I felt as safe and sound as a girl like me could possibly feel; because in the back of my mind, I’m always waiting for when the spell will be broken by a phone call, hunger or daylight. Then I’d just lie there, gnashing my teeth in frustration and covering up my soul before he’d turn his head to look over the shoulder and smile at me, as if we were still surrounded by magic. But instead, that’s when I escape.

I’ve learned that I am the ultimate ticket to happiness.

They say they want to discover me, I tell them there’s not much to see. In a way, I’m not lying. You know all those things you’ve always wanted, but thought they aren’t real? They aren’t, because you haven’t created them yet. Before they’d want to touch me again I’m gone, cold, magic dust or whatever they like to call it.

He sent me the note a few nights later, through a mutual friend. There was a P.S. too – and I won’t lie, reading this part felt like swallowing hot rocks for a second or so. It said: I used to think it’s the daylight that breaks the spell of night. Now I know it’s girls like you who do it.

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66 thoughts on “Amaryllis

    1. I once knew a girl named Amaryllis, while I was an Erasmus student in Athens, 5 years ago. She was a cool girl, we worked on projects together, but I remembered I liked the sonority of her name. I think is one of the most beautiful names. I never heard it since then.

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    2. Wow! This is just really way out there, but maybe not for all the garbage we live in. There are people who can’t handle any feelings because they just live life as if feelings were misery to them.
      I am in real awe of how she connects with reality, but makes her reality an underground world. Incredible!

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  1. Just when I thought it couldn’t get deeper, more beautifully bittersweet, and more silent courage and anger… it turned me around and I saw it respoken, even deeper. No pussy cat love. Real stuff. I loved it..

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      1. He is a bad, selfish character, isn’t he?
        “I just want to capture her essence and remember it forever.”
        HE is a bad, selfish character, isn’t he?
        “I just want to capture her essence and remember it forever.”
        and then, “I don’t really care who she is, I love her already, or I love who she turns me into.”
        How can one want to remember someone for ever if one doesn’t care who she is? If you want to catch someone’s essences, you care. You want to know!

        And the, SHE?
        “Any form of affection I felt for him that night was nothing else but fuel to my fire. As for him, he was only a raw sketch, an undefined character, inspiration.” 
        She used him !
        I know life and people are like that.
        Still great writing. A good writer has to be able to sketch characters.
        I wish I could that.

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  2. I liked it all around, one sentence I specially found interesting “Thinking creates feelings, then feelings kill the mind, so much for thinking.” Man that´s twisted… whatever happened to the guy being the one to sneak out? What a puss, guy still trying to get the girl after she obviously looked at him as a one nighter. I would like to be remembered when I pass on to another life as “the guy”, in my tombstone it will read “Beloved by his family and hated by the broken one-night stand hearts, may he rest in peace by the family and burn in hell by the chicks”. Nice stories you have here.

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  3. It is long enough ago now that is is difficult for me to remember many things about what it was like to be a twenty year old guy. I am now and was, I think then, a decent enough guy. It is odd how, nearly 40 years later, I don’t ever think about the people who hurt me then although at times the bitterness was like acid coursing through my veins and my agony reached so deeply into me I just wanted to be someone else. I recovered even from the worst of these fast enough in retrospect, but not at the time. Oddly but not inappropriately for me at least, I think far more about the people, not very many at all – but enough – who passed through my life and who I hurt through my stupidity, thoughtlessness, insensitivity or simple inadvertence. Why do I write to you? First, your writing is so beautiful I could not resist telling you this. Second, I shared my story simply to give you another perspective. Finally, you never know where life will take you. I did not find the love of my life until about a year after I had decided I would never get married and was just fine with that. I was 38 at the time.

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    1. Thank you for sharing that with me.
      I think I understand your perspective. We have so much freedom to make choices that it’s only us to blame at the end, if we didn’t get it right.
      But it seems you did! :)

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      1. I think there are lots of ways to get it right so I would say getting it completed so that you are contented with who you are and do not need any one else to make you whole. I think we can all do it so long as we come to understand that it is not up to someone else to complete us, I don’t know if that make sense to you now. I have sometimes heard a person say how their partner completes them and it sounds so wonderful, but I believe it is impossible. I believe you must be self-sufficient — then you can go out and complete an us:)! I look forward to reading more of your writing, angst or not.

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      2. Of course it makes sense. It just takes courage to see that we really are self-sufficient and don’t need to rely on others to save us.
        Thank you so much, I’m glad you do.

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  4. I could tell you I understand what you said through these words, I could tell you how much I feel that way too, but I would be lying. Your words are beautiful.. I don’t care to delve into the meanings of it, how it came into being, I love it! It fits perfectly in my day and that’s all I need to be your fan! :)
    Thank You for writing this!

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  5. I really enjoyed this. I saw it on my dashboard and after reading just the first sentence, I kind of had to read more! The way you write is very compelling. May I offer one suggestion? A bit more attention to technical aspects, such as when to open and close a quotation and a few minor grammar issues, would make this a perfect breeze to read. I did struggle with a few sections, on keeping the voices of the him and the her separate, but other than that, your writing is very, very profound! Every good writer simply needs a good proofreader in the end, anyway. ;) Good job!

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