(Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV)
“Oh I don’t know. Paint a picture, read a book, travel, meet people. No, god, those are so generic. I want to stand at the base of the ocean at sunrise, feel my feet sink into the sand as the morning warmth hits me. I want to look into space and know the names of all the constellations. I want to reach into history and know why they’re important. And I do want to travel. I want to see the artifacts of people who lived thousands of years before me. I want to see the remnants of their existence and fully understand that while I’m a blip in the universe, there’s a chance that I can affect someone long after I’m gone. I don’t know, I mean, I want to be intangible, separated, but interwoven into the fabric of the universe. I want to be my own entity while maintaining my sense of place.”
The bubble shrinks. Dots of multicolored light blink at the edges of my sight. Everything else blurs together and I can feel my entire body vibrate. I can hear it—the shudder that starts at my head and wiggles its way to my extremities then outward. Time slows. My heartbeat slows. I lose focus. Everything is happening at once. Everything and nothing all together.
Everything and nothing. Everything and nothing.
Now.
Now. Now. Wake up.
“Wow.”
She sighs and kicks her feet, splashing water into the dark.
“I know, I know…it’s such a weird thing to complain about.”
“That is not at all what I meant—”
“I mean, there are people dying, or not sure if they’ll make it through the night and I’m concerned because I don’t like my job. I don’t feel special. Because I’m not happy. I’m not happy…”
I look to the waves and watch as the water washes over itself. Debris. From there to here. A to B. Consider the leaf turned. Then turned again. And again. And again. Ad infinitum. Constant revolution.
“Well, who is? I mean, yes, there are likely those in a more negative place than you are, sure, but I don’t believe in absolute miserableness.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, you should be allowed to feel how you feel when you feel it. The fact that you even consider the other so strongly makes you better than most, but you shouldn’t allow other’s misfortune dictate your own. If you can be, you should be.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m only unhappy because others aren’t.”
“Oh I didn’t mean to imply that at all. All I mean is that you should be. We all should. I mean, not should really, but, like…”
“No I know what you mean. I really do. It’s just hard to not feel selfish, you know? I mean, I have no reason to not be happy. I have a home, a job, some friends, I have this place. It’s just…it’s just, god I don’t know…and I think that’s the worst part.”
“Well, I mean, for me at least, I think sometimes it’s less of a reason to be unhappy and more a lack of a reason to be happy, no?”
“Yeah…yeah…I guess that makes sense…”
Static rises. Static falls. Perception gives weight to the incalculable pattern scattered amongst the emptiness. Collisions. Vibrations. Noise. I muster everything I can to reach out and make sense of a thing where none naturally lies. Electricity firing. Magnets enacting their force. I feel pulled downward on a slope descending ever further. I am weightless. She calls to me and I hear her, distantly…softly…
“Hey…you okay?”
I open my eyes. I breathe. My heart beats. The glow of the moonlight illuminates us and the dark waves as they crest and fall.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine…”
She puts her hand on my shoulder. Static.
“…yes. I’m fine. I just had a moment.”
Her hand moves up and down and back and forth. Every contact is white noise that permeates the surface.
She speaks and all flutters, “It’s okay. I remember.”
Bright light. A sound. I am there. Nothing has changed. No time has passed. Here we are. Hand in hand. The waves crash. The moon is bright. The trees sway. Fish splash. All is the same. I look up and see it all and I just can’t. I just can’t. Too bright. Too empty. Too fucking big. The expanse. Forever. I am nothing. Forever empty. Infinite or infinitesimal, it does not matter.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Seriously.”
The wave subsides into a line. A to B to A to B. A spiral draped over such an expansive distance so as to appear flat.
“…Thanks.”
My legs are cold so I take them out of the water and raise my knees and put my hands behind me and I look up.
Her voice. Her voice cuts through, “How are you doing anyway?”
Her voice is clear. My legs are even colder now.
“Oh. I don’t know. I’m fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean…yeah. I don’t know. You know, like…everything’s fine. I like my day to day. I really do.”
“But?”
“No, really it is. It’s just…it’s just sometimes fine doesn’t quite do it.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Yeah.”
“But at least there are moments…”
I look at her. Her voice.
“…You know what I mean? Like, yes, the day to day is…well, exactly that; it’s day to day. To expect it to be anything other than itself would be absurd. But moments. Those crystallized frames of time where everything is so perfect you can’t stop to reflect upon them for fear that if you even gaze upon them for any amount of time they cease being those moments and collapse into normalcy.”
The glow sets. Darkness. Emptiness. The ever expanse.
“Like now?”
“Yes like now please shut up I’m having a moment.”
Laughter and then silence falls. Silence falls. I close my eyes and I see the thousand lights dart behind my eyelids. A flicker. Multifaceted vertices. Swell and fade.
I hold it there for but a second then open to see her looking at me. Moonlight. So much and so little. The water. The fish. The stars. So little. The moonlight in our goddamn eyes.
