cecil anders - wanderer - wip

No one had ever looked at me the way Minda did. No one had that affection in their eyes. No one looked at me like I was special. Like they wanted me.

And somehow I ended up in her adoration. I found myself nestled in between the gentle slopes of her arms, two apostrophes that punctuated my life, completing me like nothing ever will. Those arms broke me and then held the pieces together. They made my eyes water and my shoulders rack and damnit damnit damnit what I was reduced to in those arms. She would tell me that everything was okay, and I would reply with a quivering lip and a feeble nod, too caught up in the cracks of my glass skin to realize how silly the statement was.

Reality is a cruel mistress, is what I should have said. Everything is not okay, it never was okay, nothing is okay.

I was a drop of mediocracy and she was a tempest of everything desirable. Beautiful, tall, curves in all the right places. I was a timid twig, my frame harboring the potential of muscle but the rest of me lacking the coordination or talent to fill it. I was destined for the coal mines in District 12; I would have been built up. But I am a coward but I never made it. I was a lanky thing, having height with nothing to go along with it except for big hair big ears big shoulders. It didn't make sense to have Mina in my life. I must have done something right to deserve her. I did everything wrong and she still stayed.

I fell violently in love with her, forgetting my parachute. She

"Don't give me all that emotional baggage Don't give those puppy eyes," is what she used to say whenever she started to leave. She told me once she had a thing for eyes like mine, the kind of brown that wasn't too dark and wasn't too light. I had a thing for her eyes, partly because of the color but mostly because of how she looked at me.. "I've had enough for today I'll come back tomorrow."

Pinky fingers are for promises but sometimes a finger so small is a finger easily broken.

She didn't look at me the same after the incident. What a monster what a monster what a monster what a monster she must have thought as she let go of my callous hands and broke my heart in one deft move. 

I was just a boy He was just a boy.

He was better than me in every single possible way. Two years my junior, he still was stronger and smarter and prettier. He was a Mina, flawless to every extent. He was the Sun, brighter than me and bigger than me. The world revolved around him, it seemed. He was the center of everything, the perfect child and the better brother. So certain of himself in his place in the universe.

And I was the moon. I was a reflection of all his glory, lonely and belittled. I was pathetic, always changing and moving, running around in circles the more important things in life. I was cratered with imperfections and people inspected and squinted at and finally said, "hey, it's a stretch, but it kind of looks like a man."

Everything is all fun and games until someone gets dead hurt. 

It was an accident. I said it one hundred thousand million times over in my head. An accident an accident an accident. Isn't that all life really is?

M