Lovers Undercover by Chrys Romeo - HTML preview

 

3.

Coming Out to Light

I survived that night. I woke up many days later, but I was confined to intensive care and my recovery lasted for more than one month.

I lost track of Seloren. We were separated. As soon as I felt better, I asked around, but I couldn't find her. Even after the war was over, I didn't have any clue how or where to trace her in the world. The last image I had seen was her running uphill in the snow.

Now do an exercise of imagination: make it one year of absence. Let the clock move ahead, spin it fast forward. Actually, make it five years. Year after year after year... Seven years. Eight. No: you know what? Ten years. In fact, let's be honest: twenty years. How about twenty five? Well, imagine adding this amount of silence: twenty five years passing by without us ever meeting again. I guess years could have reached a hundred, and it still would have been the same situation, had I not kept looking for her, making that step ahead, without ever giving up action … having a reason and the audacity to surpass the walls, the silence, the emptiness. Through the years, that wasn't enough. It was more than that. I would say we were meant to see each other again.

During the first year without her it was infernally difficult to let her go from my mind. I was mostly torn between anger and regret, not knowing what to do, where to find her. Eventually, I decided to stop thinking about her, since it was pointless and hopeless. I had no idea where she was, who she was with, how that person might have been better for her instead of me. I was sure she had most certainly found someone else and gotten married after the war. I kept remembering her words “just an episode” and I also thought she could have looked for me, had she wanted to.

So I decided to forget her. I decided to free her from my thoughts, in the same way I had cut the explosive wire the last time we had been together. I thought it would be possible. After all, we had spent only a few weeks together. I thought it would be easy to get her out of my soul.

It wasn't.

I managed to convince myself I was over that love experience. I rationalized it. Anytime it would surface in my mind, I tried to erase it, send it back into oblivion, motivate myself beyond it, telling myself I was better of not thinking about it, to just keep going on with my life. And yet some girls I met later reminded me of her. Subconsciously, instinctively, I was probably attracted to something similar to what I had shared with Seloren. I didn't plan it, but it happened. Sometimes, I could not avoid it in any way. It was like ripples on the surface of a lake, the circles were still reverberating; the influence of our coming together was still touching me in some ways, long after we had drifted apart.

I don't know why our encounter had been so powerful: was it the war, or the absolute freedom of love in the middle of battle? Was it the way we matched each other's energy in such a magnetic irresistible way? Had the universe designed us for each other from the beginning, before we were even born into existence or thrown in that war? Did we bring a lesson to each other, about ourselves? It was a total enigma. I'd always seen her as a gift in my life, a miraculous wonder of love. I could understand why she was still shining in my mind, whenever I remembered her name.

Years went by and there were still nights when I would dream about her, appearing right in front of me, with those bright eyes and the light of her smile making reality seem another realm. The comforting dreams ended by morning and I had to learn to live in a reality where she was absent. In twenty five years I was convinced she had encountered a man who could make her happy and she had forgotten the “episode” with me. I was also sure I deserved to find love with someone else, since she wasn't anywhere anyhow.

However, I was never able to forget: I understood her importance to me was timeless. She was in my system, at the dawn and the definition of who I became. She had been there and she would always mean an invincible love that surpassed the war. A love that went from undercover to light and stood by in the worst of times. A love that had confronted and defend danger, uncertainty, anxiety, chaos, darkness, erasing them with just its presence. A love that had that taming, absolute and effortless power, that gift of serenity inherent. She would always be that light in my mind. She had become a myth of the past, an unattainable, irreplaceable dream. She had been there, in the beginning of my journey through life, at the deciding moment of who I would be, and nothing could ever take it away. The truth of her love, as brief as it had been, had expanded in significance and stayed undeleted, invincible through twenty five years.

 I traveled a lot and saw many places and many people. My life was in continuous motion. Whenever I thought about her, I wondered if she might have something to say to me, or if I had become totally insignificant to her. I was still eager to find her, but I also doubted that she wanted to have anything to do with me in the present. Maybe she wanted to forget the war, the chaos, the love that had happened in such a short time. I had no idea what she could feel, so I focused on the people who were actually present in my life.

Yet it seemed unfair the way our lives had taken separate directions and I wished for some kind of a sign, a word, anything. I would have given anything to just be able to say “hello” to her once again. I wanted to apologize for not being wise enough when I was younger. I wanted to tell her who I had become. I kept searching online, but she was nowhere in the virtual internet. There was no trace of her: it was as if she was hiding. I wondered if I would ever see her again.

And then one day, I saw her.

She was at a conference, speaking about some new science discoveries. I saw her in an interview on television. I immediately recognized her, even if she was slightly changed in appearance: she was wearing glasses and had cut her hair shorter. However, her eyes and smile had remained the same. Her calm and detached attitude, her refective thoughts that moved like shades in her eyes when she was glancing sideways, everything was well known to me. I was instantly euphoric and fascinated to see her after so many years, to know what she was doing. It was unbelievably miraculous. I searched for the address of the lab that had organized the conference and decided to send her a message, written in a book – and then see if she wanted to respond in any way. I hoped she would feel safe enough and tempted to reach out to me. I hoped I could create that invitation that would get her out of the shell of silence, distance and time. I wondered if she would recognize me, if she could appreciate the person I'd become. And I waited. Days went by with no sign. Many questions were on my mind. Doubt had started to settle in my thoughts: maybe she didn't want to talk to me again.

And then one evening, out of the blue, the words appeared on the screen of my mobile phone:

“I do want to reach out to you”.

I knew it was her. She had answered my message.

“Here I am”, I texted immediately, in a second.

She paused for a moment. Then her words appeared on my screen:

“What took us so long??”

I smiled. Happiness overwhelmed me. I wanted to answer something, but I couldn't explain to her the long years, the doubts and the silence. I just typed:

“I always searched for you.”

“I didn't know.”

“I thought you'd never answer. Ever again.”

“I thought you'd never write.”

Her reply made me smile once more. She was incredible with her answers, as she had been when we fell in love.

She continued:

“I almost fainted when I saw your handwriting again. ”

“I promised I'd give you a book.”

“Yes, you did. And I believed you.”

“You believed in me. Thank you.”

“I knew, somehow.”

It was amazing how easily we slipped into talking to each other, as if the years had dissipated into mere dust and we had been together just a day before, up in the mountains, staring at each other, inseparably and equally overwhelmed by that magnetic, mesmerizing feeling.

“I missed you in my life”, she wrote again the words and I was at once exhilarated and liberated by that miracle that she still felt the same for me.

It was as if a veil of silent emptiness, heavy with twenty five years had been lifted from my mind and my soul, freeing me instantly: it was an incredible relief to understand the truth, that she had actually missed me. I felt I was flying above the entire world. It was safe enough to be sincere.

“I missed you so much”, I wrote.

“Here we are now.”

“I've been waiting for this moment for decades.”

“Let's not waste anymore of those... decades, I mean.”

Everything she said was right and it made me smile continuously, as I was staring at the phone. I recognized her completely beyond the words that appeared on the screen, as if she was standing right in front of me, with that enticing smile, with that light in her eyes, with that confirmation that made me feel redeemed and loved beyond any doubt.

“This must be something special, if we're unforgettable to each other”, I typed.

Her reply was again unmistakably certain:

“That's not debatable. I remember everything. The nights under the blankets and up on the roof... the story you wrote in the snow... you reciting poems...”

“It's like a dream.”

“Yes, emotions are overwhelming...”

And then she added, unexpectedly and somehow eagerly: “Would it be possible to imagine we could see each other again?” I had no hesitation about it:

 “Absolutely.”

“I would really like to go away with you”, she typed.

“I want that too”, I answered.

“When can you?”

“Anytime. How about April?”

We were in March. I thought we would have enough time to plan everything.

She agreed.

“Good. We'll do that. My favorite place is an ancient romantic city. Where would you like to go?”

“I like the islands, but it doesn't matter.” “Islands are hard to get away from.” “That's the idea”, I smiled.

We didn't make any precise plans that evening. I was ready to go anywhere with her, as long as we would be together. I realized we never had any opportunity to spend time away from the war, to just enjoy each other, free and happy, as we had dreamt long ago. However, we had been free and happy even then, despite the battles around us: it had been our miracle - an undercover love that defend circumstances and enhanced the meaning of life.

“I was dying to read your letter, when I got the envelope”, Seloren typed again. “I wanted to remind you of the days when we were happy together.”

“We were happy”, she admitted.

And we felt so happy that evening too, typing on our phones for hours, after twenty five years, as if they had gone in a blink of an eye. Finding each other was completely shifting the borders of reality again: everything I had thought about her and about us during the long years had to be redefined into a happier version... into a better truth. The universe was miraculous again and life had suddenly much more meaning.

“I think I'll go to sleep now.” she told me later that night.

“Okay, good night. I'll be here if you need me”, I replied.

“Good night.”

I stared at the phone, almost not believing what a wonderful thing had just happened to us: finding each other in that way, as if time didn't really exist.

I told myself I would never let her go again. She would never be lost from me, ever.

And yet, I didn't anticipate the outside events that were rolling in the dark.

Something happened just a few days after we found each other on our phones.

A malfunction from a nuclear plant generated radioactive smoke and clouds that turned into rain. It spread radioactive particles from one country to another, to the entire globe. It spread out until it covered most continents.

At first, I thought we would simply postpone our plans of meeting each other, but then the situation got out of control. Seloren was of the phone most of the time and I couldn't get any information about her, or from her. As a lab scientist, she was requested to work day and night to find a solution for the people who had been affected by the radioactive burns.

 I could only get brief messages from her, informing me that she was tired and had a hard time. I couldn't intervene, couldn't help and would not be allowed to get near her anyway. I imagined she had been asked to help at the site of the nuclear plant and I wondered if she was one of those researchers wrapped up in isolation suits, working with dangerous chemicals. The radiation seemed extremely risen beyond safety levels and I waited day by day to hear that Seloren was okay.

I couldn't believe we had just found each other after twenty five years, only to face another separation again. It suddenly seemed so unfair. I was determined I wouldn't let it take her away from me, but there wasn't much I could do about it.

I wondered if the universe had brought us together again just to confirm that our love had been true. I wondered if that new wave of chemical poisoning, radioactive wind and whatever else was going on turned out to be just another way of keeping us apart.

In a few days, Seloren stopped responding to my texts and I was left wondering what was actually happening. I hoped she was just busy. I hoped she would tell me she was fine.

“I can't lose you again”, I typed a message to Seloren.

“It's just been a rough week, I'm working 13 hours a day. I didn't sleep much”, she replied and I understood I had to let her be.

“I hope you stay safe”.

She answered:

“You too.”

And that was it: silence again. I couldn't say anything more. I didn't dare add to her worries and anxiety. I had no idea what her life was like at that moment. I only remembered how she had fallen asleep in my arms, long ago, and I wished I could comfort her again just by being there for her. And yet, that was no longer possible, with the radiation keeping her away from me. Ironically, we had found each other only to be kept apart.

At least we exchanged a few messages, I thought to myself. It was more than I would have dreamed to become possible during the long years of our silent absence from each other's lives. Yet knowing I could suddenly contact her but it would not solve anything was a thought that kept bothering me like an undercurrent of subconscious rebellion.

In the meantime, because of my military training and experience in the past, I was called to join an army team that would wipe the streets with a particular foam that could neutralize the chemicals. The town seemed deserted, as if everybody had gone to a shelter against radiation. We were wearing masks and suits that could reduce radiation and chemicals, riding on the side of firefighting trucks and spraying the sidewalks, the buildings, the asphalt, everything in sight.

At night, we roamed the parks, to spray the grass and the trees. As I was looking at the moon and the stars, listening to the hidden birds, watching the shadows of tree branches I wondered how deep the level of radiation could be, if nature was so peaceful and full of hope. There was something magical about spring time: trees full of flowers rising across the clear blue sky, the little night lamps in the grass that looked like blue stars scattered on the ground, the smell of earth, fresh plants, washed out dust and the bright swirling colors in daytime, everything was contradictory to the idea that the world stood still, threatened by the dangerous chemicals and radioactive atmosphere. Nature was so miraculous: it kept flourishing, thriving, shining brighter. It was stronger than human mistakes. I wondered why humans were so careless about it, taking for granted everything that was valuable in their lives.

I wondered if Seloren and I had done the same thing: taking for granted what we had together, by not doing enough to find each other again.

I remembered her confession to me long ago, when we were in the mountains and I had returned from a walk in the snow: “I wanted to say I love you, but it sounds better to say I need you”, she had written on one of those notes for me. Those three words “I need you” had been such a treasure in my mind. I wished she could say them again, but there was only endless silence that I couldn't break anymore. I missed her deeply. I remembered the closeness we had shared and wished I could look in her eyes, but I didn't know if that would ever be a reality again.

One day, I finally got an answer to my text. I couldn't stay away anymore, I had to contact her.

“I couldn't forget that year when we were together”, I wrote to her.

“I want to remember more”, she replied.

It seemed a positive answer, so I continued:

“Where are you?”

Instead of answering, she sent me a satellite map with her location.

I looked at the address. I decided to go there and find her.

“Can I come over?” I texted. “I miss your eyes.”

“I don't look the same as years ago.”

I already knew what she looked like. I had seen her on television. I still recognized her.

“What time is convenient for you? Would you like to meet me somewhere?” I asked.

“I can't get out of the house. I'm too sick for that”, she confessed. “I've been isolated indoors for eight weeks already. This radiation altered my health and I'm not allowed to walk in the contaminated streets. But you can come over.”

I felt worried about her: the sudden disclosure of her unstable health made me want to be there to comfort her. That situation explained her silence and reserved messages.

I jumped on the first plane to get there as soon as I could.

When I arrived, it was raining again. The streets were deserted and the peaceful water dripping on the roofs reminded me of the time when we were in the mountains, together, so unexpectedly yet irrevocably in love. I still felt the same way for her: she had a special place in my memory. She represented a love that had been so liberating, secretly sweet and deep, expanding and unfolding under the limitations of strict, conventional, oblivious circumstances. I could remember it as if only a few days had gone by.

I arrived there at the time when the evening was slowly spreading shadows of a dim light, filtered by the rain, over the empty town. My heart was beating faster by the minute, as I advanced on the sidewalk. The moment I turned the corner I already saw her standing there, in front of the building. She had come to the entrance to greet me, in case I wouldn't know where to look. I saw her from afar, in the open door, staring along the empty street, with her arms folded around her, as if she felt cold. I wondered if she would recognize me. I had grown a mustache and wasn't wearing the army uniform anymore. I had a casual jacket, jeans, baseball cap and snickers. I could have been anyone, in that empty street.

 I kept advancing towards her and then her eyes noticed me. I was the only one walking around at that hour. She probably guessed or recognized me at once. She made a gesture with her hand, waving hello through the rain.

I felt my breathing freeze in the humid air, as my heart was almost beating out of my chest. I stopped in front of her. We looked at each other and smiled. Her eyes were sparking with that deep light that I recognized. She seemed a bit tired, but the abyss of light in her stare was just the same and I got dizzy and lost in it once again, like long ago, hypnotized and fascinated. It didn't matter how we had changed in time: the thrill of the encounter was overwhelming.

“Hi Seloren”.

“Let's get inside, I can't be out too much”, she replied.

We went inside the hallway and got into the elevator.  When we got out, we paused there in the half dark corridor, looking at each other. It had been a long time, but I could recognize everything about her. We locked glances for what seemed like minutes. I could sense something was shining in her stare. I could feel the sizzling attraction between us, in the dark corridor, waiting. As we stood there, she leaned with her back against the wall and I felt drawn to take that step closer and kiss her. I didn't have any hesitation. It felt like long ago for a moment, her lips melting under mine, our desires getting to our heads. The mesmerizing energy of us together was once again in my life and I couldn't get enough of it.

But then, she looked away.

“I'm confused”, she whispered and she turned to unlock the door.

I sensed something was wrong. I followed her inside.

“Would you like something to drink?” she offered politely.

“Just tea. It's a bit cold outside.”

“Tea it is then.”

She brought me a steamy cup and we sat at the coffee table, looking at each other again, in lost contemplation. Something worried me about her. There was a distance that I couldn't understand, a foggy uncertainty in her gestures. I told myself twenty five years were indeed a long time.

“So how are you?” I asked her.

“It's been rough lately. The radiation is messing with my brain. I'm trying to keep cool, but it's not easy.”

She sipped the tea from her cup, then looked at me through the steam.

“And you? “

“I'm fine. I'm doing great, actually. I've been a free man ever since the war ended. I feel so liberated and alive.  I'm so happy to see you again!”

“It's been a long time.”

“Yeah, but I still remember everything like it was yesterday.”

She looked down. She wrapped the robe around her, as if trying to shield herself.

“This is a bit too intense for me. I don't remember very well what we were... what was. I have some sort of amnesia from the exposure to radioactive environment. Give me some time to figure things out.”

I felt the earth sink beneath my feet, dragging me down with it, on a slope I hadn't expected. My enthusiasm had hit a wall. My mind was spinning. It seemed so unfair. I looked at her, wondering if she actually didn't feel the same for me anymore and was using the radiation as an excuse. I was sure there had been other men that had sparked her interest in such a long time, but I still felt I should have been the one who deserved to be with her, despite everything.  It was hard to understand why she suddenly didn't remember anything anymore.

The evening was getting darker somehow, weighing on my shoulders.

“You don't remember us? I can't believe it!” I said. “You're the closest lover I ever had!”

My confession was unexpected to her. She looked down.

“I didn't know that. I guess I don't think of you as a lover now.”

“You'll always be a lover in my memory. We were lovers and we were very much in love, you can't possibly deny that. You can't change the past, you can't take it away. You're lying to yourself.”

She backed of a little, admitting:

“Maybe I lied to myself. I remember some things, but not as much as you. You seem to know more than I do about those days. Besides, you disappeared. I wondered for many years why you decided that.”

“I didn't disappear! The bomb blew me away – that bomb that was tied to you! I was in recovery and looked for you afterwards, but couldn't find you anywhere.”

Her words kept blowing my mind away. Everything she said was unexpected and it left me bewildered. I suddenly felt alone with the story of us long ago. I realized she had left me then in the snow, and she was leaving me again, by denying the past.

She glanced at me from behind the glasses, pleading:

“I hope you don't disappear again. I missed my extraordinary friend.”

“We were more than friends”, I replied, perplexed at the way she was turning things around, contrary to what she had said and done long ago, contrary to what I had known about us my entire life.

I couldn't wrap my mind around how she had forgotten about us and the depth of the feeling we had shared. She had seemed so enthusiastic in the beginning. I couldn't understand how exposure to radiation would erase her memories of us to such an extent.

I couldn't deal with it anymore. I knew the truth and it was so important to me, while she was trying to destroy it with a lie.

I stood up.

“Look, I don't want to be just friends with you. It's not right, what you're doing.

Please don't do this.”

“I understand you're upset. I would be too. I don't know if I'm ever going to remember us again. It might take months or even years to get out of this amnesia. The effects might be permanent.”

I stared at her, unable to accept it. I felt the hit like a ton of bricks in my soul. There was only one thing left for me to do: turn around and go. Before leaving, I tried one more time to reach an understanding with her:

“Maybe you don't remember what we had then, but what about now? Do you think I qualify as someone you could fall in love again? “

She looked at me as if she was evaluating her feelings. Her glance had some distance in it. Eventually, she lowered her eyes.

“That's a difficult question.”

“It isn't. It's either yes or no.”

I breathed deeply. I already knew her answer, from her attitude.

“Give me time to figure it out”, she said again.

“This means it's not a yes. When you think you can love me more than a friend, let me know.”

I walked towards the door, and she followed me, hesitating. She paused in the doorway.

“Thanks for the tea”, I said before getting out.

“And thank you for the love that I experienced with you. I know what I lived then. I just wish it could have a different ending.”

“You don't need to be so dramatic”.

“I'm not dramatic, but this is hard for me.”

She seemed resigned to accept my protest as justified.

“I probably don't deserve your love anyway. I'm just average.”

“You were never average in my eyes.”

I stared at her in silence. I was sure I loved her just as I had in the mountains, but I knew I had to let her wake up from that unexplained amnesia, by herself. 

I had been convinced we had both been missing out a lot from each other, from our lives. I had hoped we would come to our senses eventually and realize we could be happy together. Our love wouldn't need to stay undercover anymore. We could be free lovers this time.... free in daylight, without hiding, without any worries. And yet, she didn't see it my way.  She didn't remember loving me.

Walking alone in the rain, after the night had covered the silent town, I wondered what I could say to remind Seloren of the past: what could bring back the memory of that love. I was sure we had magic between us. I knew we would have it forever, no matter what, and if she could overcome the amnesia, she would rediscover that we were really good together. I was certain we could love each other just the same – or even more, despite the twenty five years of absence.

However, her denial made me wonder if that girl in the mountains was no longer there, and the one I met that evening was another person. I wondered if the Seloren I knew had lost her trace in the snow, on that day when the bomb blew of. Doubt was challenging me.  I didn't want to let her go, but I also had to let her make up her mind if she wanted me again. I sensed there still was a current of magnetic attraction underneath our interaction that evening, something that could resurface and revive itself, if we could just give in to it. I couldn't get it out of my mind how she let me kiss her by the elevator. The way she kissed me had not been a lie. I knew the chemistry and emotional magnetic bond we used to have were overflowing under the surface of amnesia and time. We had to have that chance to overcome past limitations and recreate a better version of us together, liberated.

It crossed my mind the following days that I should take her away to a place where she could feel better: a clean safe environment where she would be at peace, to recover her health and focus her mind. I looked up tourist destinations: cabins in the mountains, waterfalls, forests, lakes... I found something that was just right. I booked tickets for a cabin in the mountains, near a lake and a waterfall. The view was breathtaking. The forest was green, pastures clean and high up the mountain top, the water falling into the lake was so pure one could see the pebbles at the bottom. There was a small wooden cabin right next to the lake and I booked it for two weeks. I decided we could extend the time if Seloren enjoyed it. I hoped the environment would be enough to start feeling better and finally be free from everything else. And free to remember.

I only needed her to say yes.

I called her and told her I was coming over. I owned a motorcycle, so I rode to her building, and stopped under her window. She heard the engine and looked down. I saw her face in the window, with the smoky dark glasses, as if hiding in the refection.

“Come on! Let's go for a ride!” I shouted at her, as I kept the engine running.

She smiled. I thought she wouldn't accept, but in a few minutes she was at the door. I wondered if she would feel cold in the thin blue jeans and raincoat.

She sat behind me, and her arms wrapped around my body, as I had dreamed for so many times in the past years. Her touch reminded me that everything was right as long as we were together.

I started the motorcycle and went slowly at first. She leaned her head on my back. I could feel her temple on my shoulder, as I was riding along the empty streets. We went on and on, I didn't want to stop. The speed increased an