The Origin of Rezso Ch. 04

I awoke unnerved, jolted awake by a dream; It was one I'd had almost every night for the last three months.

In it, I was seated in a brothel, hordes of perfect women floating past me in a nebulous blur. Each unique and gorgeous, but none attracted my gaze. The faster they whizzed by, the tighter the knot in my stomach became, desperation and loneliness ramping up with each passing face. The dream ended when the women flew by so quickly, I couldn't see their form anymore, only a chaotic shadow speeding past me. Startled, my eyes flew open. The bedroom was shrouded in darkness, and Allison's lithe body was draped across mine.

I slipped from under her and sat on the edge of the bed, looking back to make sure I hadn't disturbed her. I paused to take her in; the wild hair scattered across the pillow; her delicate profile outlined by the pillow's dark fabric; the unruly curls draped across her face. I reached out to smooth them away but stopped.

Images from the night before came in rapid succession—wiping her down, inspecting the handprint on her ass, carrying her to bed, kissing her gently, looking into her eyes.

Her eyes: vacant, dreamy.

Trusting.

A lump formed in my throat, and I bolted from bed, a palpable force repelling any urge to touch her again.

I grabbed my phone and blinked at the screen.

2:30 a.m. Goddamn it.

I shuffled to the kitchen and pulled a heavy glass out of the cabinet. I splashed a little cold water on my face before filling it up and taking a gulp. Between mouthfuls, I surveyed the apartment.

Clean, sleek lines. Nearly everything was white in contrast to the enormous, black windows, tinted to dim the city lights.

Cold and empty.

Rebecca's voice rang in my ears.

"This place is cold and empty," she said.

"Everything about my life is cold and empty, Rebecca," I said out loud.

"And you like it that way?"

I scoffed.

"No, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? I climbed to the top of the mountain—alone— and realized it's warmer in the valley."

"Carry on."

Her voice was a warm whisper, a hint of her wry confidence below the surface.

I reached for the counter to steady myself, and the glass clattered onto the marble as I fumbled to put it down. Tears came from nowhere, running steadily down my cheeks with little regard for me or my disapproval.

The swell of emotion was an unstoppable, relentless force, grabbing insecurity and doubt from the farthest corners of my being and pushing them to the forefront. Unable to resist any longer, I slid to the floor and gave in, wishing that the sensation would shred me apart entirely.

Instead, it waved over me, pressing and squeezing at the hollow in my chest, leaving me to gasp for air between desperate sobs. An hour passed as I laid on the floor, ravaged by the thing I'd successfully avoided for five years. After the last bit of despair ebbed its way out, I sat up and looked around the apartment, still spiritless and void, but no longer a reflection of what I needed.

"Carry on," I said into the ether. "Carry on."

I heaved myself back into bed and managed to get an hour of sleep before sunrise. Eager to throw myself into the familiar comfort of routine, I got dressed and jumped on the treadmill before Allison woke up. This time, I avoided looking at her altogether. Midway through my run, the apprehension returned, so I amped up the speed until my lungs felt like they would burst.

After my run, the rest of my routine was automatic. Coffee. Shower. Shave. Clothes. Breakfast.

As I ticked off each task, the return to ordinary habits reinforced a sense of purpose and security.

Seated in the breakfast nook, I was sinking my teeth into a toast point, when Allison strolled into the kitchen, still groggy.

She gave me a sluggish wave as she walked to the counter and poured some coffee.

"What have you got planned today?" I asked.

"I'm meeting some friends for lunch, and then I'm probably going to look for a dress to wear tonight?"

"Tonight?"

Her mouth pinched at the corners.

"We have that dinner and a show with your brother tonight. Vanessa made all the arrangements."

Ah, Vanessa. How could I forget anything my fucking, meddlesome sister-in-law planned?

"Right."

Allison studied my face, and I did my best to mask the obliviousness. Satisfied, she smiled and sat across from me.

"Make sure you look sharp. I am pretty sure some members of Syzygywill be there."

Christ, not this again.

Syzygy, with their "Eyes Wide Shut" bullshit, was a god damned sex cult, a blight on kinksters, and precisely the opposite of everything I held dear in my sex life. They'd been hounding me to join for the last year, and Allison was hell-bent on changing my mind.

"OK," I dismissed.

"Andy," Allison whined, her petulance dissolving any serenity my routine afforded me. "Won't you at least consider it?"

I suppressed the urge to yell, and instead, lowered my head and grunted, directing my attention to the headlines on my phone.

"Fine. I'll see you later tonight, then."

I glanced up, gave her a half-nod, and she stalked out of the kitchen. When the coast was clear, I cleaned up my dishes and hid in an overstuffed chair, where I was sure to avoid her until she left.

Later, when I heard the last clicks of Allison's heels echo onto the elevator, I stood and took in the apartment.

Finally alone, I was overcome with restlessness. I picked up my phone and scrolled through new submissions from other audio artists, but nothing piqued my interest. And, the thought of watching porn was less than thrilling.

No attempt at distraction worked. I was hungry for something I couldn't quite place, and it was making me crazy.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Did I need to search for something? Someone?

Maybe that was the place to start. Perhaps if I got clear on that, everything else would work out.

I charged into the office and grabbed my microphone and recorder. Once everything was in place, I laid down in bed and waited for inspiration to strike. Letting my mind wander was no easy feat, and I grew frustrated as it jumped onto any viable piece of information.

I took a deep breath and let the question wash over me, "Who is she?"

What surfaced was beyond my control and understanding. The words tumbled out effortlessly:

I'm desperate.

Haunted by your lingering shadow. Bewitched by the whispers tethering your heart and mine.

Formless, nameless you.

Tormented by a non-stop restlessness, I can't fucking shake.

How can my soul cry out for someone I don't know? Is this merely the echo of an old, lost love?

No.

You're there. Waiting, but out of reach. Unseen. Undiscovered.

But, my heart sees you. My body longs for you. My mind is tortured by you.

I'm adrift, lost. And, it's maddening. I am not used to ambiguity. Until now, my life has been a series of steps in a sure direction. There isn't a goal I haven't achieved. A championship I haven't won. A car I can't buy. A girl I can't fuck.

My ability to achieve is limitless.

But none of that matters to you. You don't care about my scorecard or my victories.

Because, you're not to be won; you are to be found, unearthed, and cherished.

You are mine, no matter what I have or who I am.

And I am yours: Your firm hand. Your willing shoulder. Your open heart.

With you, my well-worn armor is useless. You'd see through it anyway. But, you understand why I need it, because you need protection, too. Even when we have each other, the world is unyielding in its attempt to break us.

Even so, the heart may be broken, but the soul stays intact. And, the soul will not be denied.

I will search for you. I've always been searching, unaware that you were what was missing.

I've known you. I recognize your soul. And all I want is to be wrapped in its warmth.

When I find you, our reunion won't be fiery or explosive. It'll be a sweet rejoining. The righting of a natural law neither of us understands but are bound to. The grace of time and space pulling us together at last.

I will wait for you. I will cry out to you. And, I will hold you in this life or the next.