“From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.”
—Berowne in Love’s Labor’s Lost
(image from pinterest)
There was something magical about the way she sparkled. She twirled in the sunlight, her hair catching its light and maneuvering it against its will. I didn’t blame the sunlight, I was equally enraptured by her beauty.
She was beauty in a way that I had never seen before. A beauty I had never appreciated at all. She wasn’t the beautiful that society demanded. I knew that she had never felt that she meant anything other than a punching bag, a plaything, a burden, and every other bad thing that existed. She soldiered on through all of that. She still gave so much of herself no matter how little she got back.
She was an abandoned child. Not physically. Physically she had a family. Emotionally, they were just people. She loved them anyway. She loved them despite them choosing every other vice in life besides her. She loved them even when she stayed up as a teenager contemplating whether the world really needed her around. She loved them even when others hated and judged her for who her parents were. She loved them because she believed one day they would find their way back to her. Today, as she giggles under the light rain that sparkles in the afternoon sun, she still loves them. She still has hope.
I watch as the white dress plays around her ankles as she splashes around in the puddles. She laughed through tears. Something I found hard to do. I never understood why she took so many hits yet she stood, no matter how unsteady she was on her feet.
She was the type girl who valued friendship above all. She trusted fully. She invested her all, no matter how little was invested in return. She chose her friends. Even when they chose others before her. She chose them. Even when they lied to her face multiple times. She chose them. Even when she overheard them speak about her. She chose them. Even when they judged and belittled her. She chose them… even when they did not choose her. Why did she do that? I hated them for her. I hated that they did those things to her. Why couldn’t she open her eyes and see it? Why did she still bend over backwards when they had no appreciation for her at all?
Her dark hair curls at the ends, drenched in water. The trees and grass glitter under the magnificence of the miracle that dances among them. Rain birds flutter above her head. I grin because I know she’s afraid of birds, but she dances anyway. She looks up at the sky as she twirls. I know her head is spinning now. She’s dizzy.
That was how she felt whenever she was in love. Dizzy. Breathless. Excited. Afraid. She embraced every emotion. I felt afraid for her the first time she fell in love. She was afraid too, but more than anything else she was excited. She was only fourteen years old. A child. But the depth of emotion she felt… as an adult she knew it wasn’t as small as a teenage crush. She trusted. She cared. She dreamed. But they were shattered. She was shattered.
She tried again, years later and again, her heart was shattered.
I never understood why she did it. Why? Why did she want to feel that pain over and over again?
“Because I never want to lose feeling at all,” she whispered to me. Her lips framing the words enticingly enough for me to believe. “I want to know love and heartbreak. I want to love. Love. Love.”
And she did.
She loved and loved.
Until she loved for the last time.
I tilt my head as I watch her lie on her back, the wet blades of grass staining her white dress as she stares into the endless sky with raindrops flooding her face and mixing with the tears I know she lets out.
I knew this moment would be one I would never forget. It was the moment I saw a beautiful girl who never knew that she was worth it. A girl who never understood that she deserved so much better than what she allowed into her life. A girl who loved, cared and trusted with every fiber of her being. A girl that was stronger than I could ever be.
A girl that I had to say goodbye to.
As I turn my back on the beautiful scene before me, I walk into the hidden alcove of darkness. I needed to let go. This world had no place for a heart like hers.
I look back at her one more time. I’m letting go. I’m saving myself. I have to. I need to save myself before she is snuffed out for good. I remember her in this light with that heart and with the pure selflessness that would one day diminish her for good. That would one day turn her into me. See, it is easier to be me while she still exists somewhere deep down. While there is a chance that one day I can be her again.
I remember her as I say goodbye.
Goodbye to the girl I used to be.
The Girl in the Sunlit Rain by Yajna Ramnath copyright@2017yajnramnath
inspired by Ed Sheeran’s Save Myself