Chasing The Unwanted

It was a game we played. Rules written in silence, a subtle admission of desire, but in the end it would seem to alway turn up folly.

The wind would glide by and whisper secrets, hoping i would envelope myself in the tale, and chase the story to it’s rightful end. But the moment i’d longe for that first step, the chatter would dissipate. fall gallantly off that cliff, pressed away into a box that would soon be burned into the ether. But as it followed i came to reason, this game was not one of reaction. not one of eyre.

I wouldn’t exactly call it revenge. Maybe the real game was to break the rules. To decimate the entire board. So when the wind returned I didn’t chase It. I didn’t even acknowledge it. I allowed it do dance about me outing on a show I could revel in. But when I ceased reacting rage found it. Wind Chimes attempted to speak in tongues insults it hoped I’d hear. 

But she knew I’d not respond. Because in the end there was nothing truly beautiful here. Just the passing wind. Governed by the laws of motion. Subject to the rules of independence. But desperately hoping I’d jump to my feet and tug at the nothingness around me. 

But maybe I’m bit gloatful. Because I wanted her to see one last face. One last smirk or indifference. And that’s precisely what I gifted her. Just as I climbed into the sturdy boat and pushed my way off the surf. 

Looking back one last time at the shore. Ready to float away in the salty blue. Accompanied by the gulls gliding above. And as I laid my head back once more. The ferocity of her contempt struck my sails and of I was to nowhere. Anywhere but here.