day 93 – a turning point

Last semester, we were given an assignment to write about a turning point in our lives, good or bad, with a deep point of view.  DPOV (as it is called in literary circles) is a technique writers use wherein you pour your heart and thoughts out on paper as if someone was walking in your head.  That is my general take on it.  We were encouraged to use our environment to describe the mood, another method used to make our stories come alive.

I know the piece is rather dramatic and perhaps over the top, but it goes with the Valentine theme and I thought I would share it, nonetheless.

Long distance by Cecilia

The Muzak was piping in “Love Story” as we took the elevator up to the departure waiting room at JFK International back in the fall of 1977.

Here I was again, saying goodbye to the love of my life.  What would happen to us?

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.  I’m going to miss you, so much.” I blurted.

“Don’t cry, let’s keep it strong, we’ll write, like we did before.”  M, my boyfriend was pleading and explaining all at the same time.

The interior lights dimmed and outside it was dark, it was night and it rained.  The raindrops fell like the tears that were falling out of my eyes, uncontrollably.  I certainly didn’t want the last time we saw each other to be with me looking all red-eyed and red-nosed like a bum in the Bowery of NYC, coming up to car windows with smeared rags to make twenty five cents.

I squirmed in my seat and admitted; “You know I’ll love you forever. I don’t know when I’m coming back, but my heart is yours.  I have no other choice, we are bonded, you’re my best friend, my knight in shining armor and I wish you could rescue me right now!”

“Cecilia, it’s time to go. Say goodbye now.” My dad imparted coldly, firmly grabbing my shoulder.

I looked into M’s eyes, slate grey-blue like clouds of smoke.  My heart, my soul, my very being transporting itself into his heart, his soul, his very being as well.  My own brown eyes searched and asked why, when, how and why again – do I have to leave you when my body aches to be with you with intense grief and wanting and longing. I want to keep this moment in time in my mind, my heart, my core, and my essence.  This moment here where you and I are locked in an eternal gaze, an embrace of two hearts that will endure so much pain once I get on that flight and although I know where I am going – I don’t know when I can get back to you.  I don’t know when again I can fill your abundant arms and bear like hug with my petite self.  How will I be protected?  How can I stay warm?  What will become of me without your resonant, distinct voice whispering in my ear? Calling my name?

And in the space of a hush, in a flicker of an eyelid blink all of those thoughts transpired between us and we understood and we knew – Yes, I adore you.

“I will wait for you.” M finally released me with dewdrop tears dropping onto his camel colored suede coat – the one I’d been huddled into so many times in the cold, freezing winters of NY as he walked me home through the woods from High School.

“Whatever happens, I will never forget you and will somehow find my way back…” I responded.

My dad dragged my left arm away, my body followed, into the doorway that separated my world from M’s world.  We climbed aboard Aerolinas Argentinas to move back to Argentina thousands of miles away.

As the jet soared into the storm, I sank into an abyss.  The course of my life, forever changed.

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