Spirit of Giving

I met my angel at a New Years Party. It was a season of closing old doors and opening new ones. A new year was a time of endings and new beginnings. In the harsh, cold winter of Canada, I saw a haven of warmth in her pool of creamy brown eyes. It was a mash of feelings, somewhat along the lines of perfection and destruction. She was a blend of innocence and hatred. I felt myself walking towards her without the slightest hesitation, as I studied her eyes in the distance. The blunt pain seen in her eyes was beyond beautiful. I wanted to know the fallen angel for myself.

***

Mary had been blind seen a car accident on the edge of the highway. The car simply lost control and found itself being smashed to pieces by the oncoming truck. The impact of the crash, the sound of the shatter windows and the taste of blood from her raw bitten lips, she would never forget. It was the same accident that took the lives of her parents before she could remember what the light of the world looked like. She was too young to remember what kind of grief she was plagued by after the loss of her family and the guilt ate her alive. Mary longed to see the world again. Even if it was just a second, Mary needed to see the faces of her parents one more time. One more second of light. There was nothing she wasn't ready to give in order to peek at the photo of her once complete family.

Still, she was poor.

***

I thought I'd give myself a chance and I decided to approach her with a smile. My charm turned onto the maximum capacity and quickly overflowing, as I walked towards her. As my feet closed the distance between her and myself, my heart was flattering quicker and my cheeks were glower redder. I felt in love at first site in the season was giving.

As I made the effort to talk comfortably with her, the thought that ran through my mind was:
I have nothing to lose. 

***

As Christmas rolled around again, I was ready to give Mary the best Christmas present anyone had ever received. She would get the cornea transplant she was waiting for. She would get the miracle she had been praying for. My fallen angel would fly again.

I was right. Never had I seen such an ecstatic expression explode onto her face. As Mary jumped into my arms, I tighten my grip around her, as if to say I would never let go. Somewhere in my human heart, I didn't want her to be able to experience the light of the world. There was so much hatred, so much discrimination, so much jealous that her blindness gave her ignorance to.

As I collapsed onto the bed, I reached for the drawer and managed to put my latest health check up paper along with the rest of them; but the small motion took too much strength as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***

I drove to the hospital that night. After carefully parking in the garage, I trudged my way in to cardiac client as I had done so many times before. It was routine. Yet, this time, my world was filled with an excepted kind of regret. Soon, my tears wouldn't stop.

As my doctor approached me, the donor card in hand, I wiped my liquid weakness away to evaporate into the abyss. There was a certain lady who had stolen my love. There was a certain divinity that needed wings to fly and I had the perfect, matching pair.

By New Year's Day, Mary would have her new beginning and I would have my closing. I would be able to rest in peace.

Like Any Other Day

I feel a little down today. I guess, for me, that means I'm just sick or ugly. Not both. If I was sick and ugly, I would be in bed enjoying the silence.

But right now, the silence is just cutting through my head the same way a hammer pounds into it after a night at the bar. I want the world to go away. But there's no where for them to go. I'm the one that's messed up.