She saw the cracks lacing on his skin, from his eyes down right to his toes. He smiled but she dared not smile back. It was in that moment that she knew this person is her 'masterpiece'.
It was months of blissful moments. He never told anyone the things he told her, she knew. He never treated someone how he treated her, she knew. He never said the things that her heart was screaming every time he looked at her..she will never know.
It was also months of fixing, breaking and fixing and breaking. His voice would quake on the telephone at 3:45 in the morning, breathing words after words of emptiness and torment, and she will be there, holding the other end, pretending as if those very words did not haunt her. His touch would linger for a second, he would lean a little too close, but his hands nor his lips did not dare taste the sweetness of her skin. Their eyes would meet, their shoulders would touch, but he was always the first to pull away.
'Vulnerability is appealing', she thought, 'such an atomic, destructive and insatiable fire'. If she could somehow go under his skin, if she could somehow learn how to stitch his broken heart, if she could somehow glue the pieces of him back together with her love, then there will be nothing else in this world she could ever wish for.
She was consumed with this 'masterpiece' of hers. She would begin and end her every prayers with his name before she would crawl to sleep. His brokenness pulled her. The blood trickling down his jaw mesmerized her. The way he would fall apart in front her made her stay a little longer.
One, two, three, four...
Breathe...
Five, six, seven, eight...
He will come...yes...he will
Nine, ten, eleven....twelve...
She was breaking apart...piece by piece, dissolving into her tears.
He was nowhere to be found. She's bleeding and crumbling and he was nowhere to be found.
Yes, that's right. She knew it from the very start. It kills, this fantasy she's in. It breaks bones. It crushes hearts. It tears people apart.
She was consumed with the foolishness that her 'masterpiece' would fix her brokenness too. She expected him to be in her front door when she's about to call him. She hoped to fall in his arms when she was burning inside. She thought she would make him her Arthur after she's done fixing him. She hoped and waited in the dark for him, watching for his shadow, listening to his footsteps.
But she was wrong.
All she heard was an echo...a far away distant silence.
She was too caught up, too drunk, and too weak to follow.
All she have in her hands were the pieces left of her and half of which, she used to fix her 'masterpiece' who was nowhere to be found.
