Angel

 

This is the second in the ‘Obsession’ trilogy.

The day I met an angel, I didn’t realise at first. You seemed ordinary, just like everyone else, though I trusted you immediately. I was so happy to be with you, to talk to you. I told you everything and never questioned that it might seem strange to anyone who didn’t understand. It was weeks later that I first noticed your wings. They weren’t like I expected. They were damaged, and instead of perfect shining edges, they were ripped and torn, with the stardust spilling onto the floor like fine glitter. I don’t know what was stranger, seeing your broken wings, or the fact that nobody else could see them. I don’t know what made me different or why you decided to trust me, but once I could see, I was ashamed.

You see, I’d leaned on you. I’d seen you as the strong one who could support me, and I felt that I deserved it. I’d allowed myself to be weak for so long that I forgot what it was like to be with someone who was struggling as much as I was. I should have been the one who held you up, who tried to find a way to mend your wings so you could fly again. I know you didn’t expect it from me, but by the time I truly understood, it was too late. There were no boundaries, so you’d let your barriers down, and I’d seen who you truly were.

You made me strong without realising, and knowing that I was going to see you again kept me going, though every now and then you’d say something so heartbreaking it made me want to reach out and hold you. I never did, of course. You can’t touch an angel. You asked me to promise never to hurt myself again, and I refused. If I couldn’t even make that promise to myself, how could I make it to you? I tried to explain, but I don’t think I did a very good job. By then, I knew you were even more vulnerable than I was. It was then that I finally decided I had to be strong for you, that no matter how hard it was, I was going to keep trying.

But then you disappeared. Did I know then that I would never see you again? I pretended I didn’t, but deep down, I knew. The last time I saw you, you were so sad. So vulnerable. I wanted to reach out and comfort you, but just in time I remembered; you can’t touch an angel. So I turned and walked away, telling myself it was just for now, that there would be other times.

I missed you desperately. Unless somebody’s met an angel they can never understand the gaping void that was left when you were no longer there. I missed talking to you, I missed my friend, and most of all I hated the fact that I couldn’t help you. I still think of you every day. I wonder how you are, and I hope that you’re coming to terms with life on the ground. And more than that, I hope one day you’ll fly again, even if I won’t be there to see it.

I forgive you everything, even though there was never anything to forgive. I know you didn’t believe that, but it’s true. You didn’t tear your wings deliberately. You didn’t choose to be grounded and unable to fly. We didn’t choose for any of that to happen. I just know that if I could have taken all your sadness and doubt and pain away and experienced it myself, I would have done. And finally, I can make the promise you asked. If I could see you again, I would look you in the eye and promise never to hurt myself again. I’m doing it for myself, but at the same time some part of me still wants to be strong for you. It makes me proud and sad all at the same time, because now I realise what it took me the longest time to understand, the reason I was so devastated when you disappeared. I even wonder if you suspected it yourself, but I hope not. Some things are better left unsaid.

I’m glad I never told you that I loved you.