Mrs. Halloween

I know about a place where strange things can happen. A place where frowning and smiling simultaneously is more than common. Where monsters and angels get together to show you how life has its ways to scare you just as much as it can help you out. In such place, rains don’t ever come out without the sun, so that the colors of the rainbow can remind you that happiness is, if not right in front of you, somewhere beyond where you expected it to be. I know a place where mountains of excitement get together to make valleys of sadness. I know a place where everything is so confusing and so clear all at once. And at first, it was hard to get used to it. But now, I love that place.

One foot in front of the other, her legs led her body in an automatic way through the path between the doors of that strangely arranged room. The familiar features standing outside that room were so well-known that she could tell their colour, texture and smell, even if she had her eyes closed. The room, however, replaced all of them with new ones, ones that she couldn’t describe even if she looked really hard into them. Smiles, eyes, ears, wrinkles, lips, faces that were no longer there. It was a new world, filled with new people, new places, new emotions. And that new place slowly tricked her in. It was only after a while when she realized she was actually walking. Her feet were dragging her in, they were walking her through it. And the once strange faces became the familiar ones. The once strange smiles became her favorite sound of laughter. Right now, she knows for sure she is walking through what before seemed to be a dream. She can’t speed up or slow down, though, so she decided to let her feet do the hard walking process and the rest of her body enjoy the rest, because soon she will find a new set of doors that, this time, will take her out of the cozy room.

I’ve been searching, looking all around me, all over the place. Looking for your face, for your smile, for your eyes. I’ve been seeing unseen things, listening to unspoken voices, feeling unreleased scents. Every now and then I catch myself thinking with my own thoughts, with my own past, missing something I wasn’t supposed to. Someone I wasn’t supposed to. And the need to let you know invades me every five seconds, but I’ve learnt my lesson, I won’t let it show. Maybe if you feel the same way, you would guess I am struggling very hard trying to let you go. The truth is, you are gone already. I can no longer feel your zephyr blowing my body when your soft arms hug me, or taste the calmness when your lips gently kiss me. There are no evident trails of yourself around me no more, I have been slowly learning to accept this. But still I want more, I want to feel and live all that, all over again. Someday, sometime, maybe.