Masks





Everyone wears a mask. Most people's are glued tightly to their souls by past pains...most people's have been in place so long that they have been forgotten-the mask has become a reality. My mask is different. My mask is weak, and takes effort to hold onto. When I am alone, it disolves in a wash of salty tears and chaotic thoughts. But I will never let it down before people. I will never show myself.

She's staring at me, her brown eyes tinted gold with emotion. Her face is small, round, framed by short hair of the darkest blue. She looks elven, staring at me so intently. I want to squirm away, or crawl closer to her, yet I keep my distance. Her cheeks are still wet with tears, but a smile is playing across her lips.

"Are you feeling any better?" I ask, my voice sounds dry and husky as it slices through the thick air of the room.

We're sitting on my futon, facing each other, staring through the dark. The room is quiet and smells of incence and rose pedals. I think I can smell her tears, salty and wet, but that is just an illusion. Even though her crying has stopped, I can sense her emotion, and the pain that she's carrying inside her. I wonder briefly if she knows this, but my thoughts are cut off as she speaks.

"Yeah, somewhat." She says as she lies down. After a moment's hesitation, I lie beside her and carefully wrap my arms around her middle. This time, she doesn't push me away, as she did when her mood began to deteriorate...instead she lays one slender hand on mine in a comforting gesture. She can't know that her pain hurts me as much as it does; that I have already grown so close to her that her tears become my own-yet the simple movement feels good and soothes the turmoil in my soul.

"I'm sorry." Her soft voice causes me to look up. Sorry? For what? I wish I could see her face, see her eyes. Her face would once again be a mask, but her eyes would reveal what her expression did not. "I didn't mean to cry."

I sigh...She's sounding like me, and that was not good. "Don't worry about it," I mutter into her neck as I stroke her hand with my finger tips. Actually, her tears were flattering, even though they tugged at my emotions. I was amazed that she trusted me enough to show me such a private thing as tears.

I could almost feel her smile and she shifted in her arms to face me, her eyes once again probing mine. "You make my mask slip," she tells me. Ah yes, back to the masks...back to everything that we show others. Back to the pain that we hold within ourselves, until it eats away at our mind and body. Masks are a curse...yet I hold onto mine so tightly.

"I'm flattered," I tell her softly-what else can I say? Her eyes search mine, and for a moment I feel as though she can see past my shell and deep into the recesses of who I truly am.

"I wish that you'd show things," she sighed, and the feeling of her reading my soul faded as she lowered her eyes. "I worry about you, babe."

My mind freezes. She worries about me? Gods, I wish she wouldn't say that! Especially if she sounds sincere...I don't want people caring about me! I can't deal with opening up to someone! I'll just be hurt...if I bear my soul, I'll get a red hot poker in it. If I bear my heart, I'll be stabbed. The past has proven consistant with pain, and pain alone...so I want to hide.

At the same time, though, I hope. I hope that she does mean it; that I could open myself once again, without the fear of pain and ridecule. And hope gets the best of me all too easily. I feel myself falling into the trap that her gentle words have laid for me....

She's watching me again, her eyes betraying concern this time. Damn it! I can't look from her, but my mask doesn't stand a chance under that gaze! "Are you okay?" Her voice is strained again and her fingers run circles on my back. I force myself to stare at her, to meet the gaze that could tear my resolve apart.

"I'm fine," I lie. How can I be okay when I'm feeling things? How can I be okay when the emotions that I so fear and hide from are inviding my mind and soul?

"Are you sure?" She knows my too well, dispite my attempts to conceal who I am, she has pried me open and looked inside. "Please, Harm, tell me whats wrong..."

Her pleading voice, her concerned eyes, her soft hands...I break down. A tear escapes my defences to roll silently down my face. Thin arms tighten around me, pulling me closer to her.......she's so warm, so comforting... "I'm scared," I whisper into her fine hair, knowing that no matter how quiet my voice is, she will hear and understand. "I'm so scared of being hurt...of getting close. I'm getting too close to you..."

"Shh..." Small hands stroke my hair and run down my back. "I won't hurt you, I promise..."

I'd heard those words before. Everyone I had ever cared about and lost had spoken those words...but, dispite my attempts to kill it, hope still lived within me. And I wanted to believe her.

I took a deep breath, fixing my mask back in place...my mask was weakened. She had destroyed part of it forever...she'd be able to read me now. I pull away and stare at her for a moment, overly aware of my wet cheeks and that my eyes still stung with tears. I let a small, genuine smile pull at my lips. "I think," I whispered, closing my eyes and putting my head down. "That I believe you."



End



goooo baaaaack