by Johanna Kumpula
This woman was different. Her eyes were alit with thousands of fires, yet somedays the smoke was all too apparent. The late night whispered words held more meaning to me than any heartfelt poem but her calloused hands wrote symphonies I couldn’t hear. She wove her way through my mind like a serpent, feeding on every doubt until, one by one, they all disappeared. I saw her – the beauty in her soul and the flaws on her sleeves. I was a ghost compared to her, wallowing in the shadow of her brilliance.
When I finally decided to acknowledge her constant presence, I was unaware of the consequence that would have on us. She became so much more after that. No longer was she writing in tongues and speaking in verse. Who we were became even more complicated. She was the rebel that wanted to fit in, she was the epitome of unique but the synonym of normal. I was quiet when it mattered and loud when no one was there to listen. She wanted to visit Mars and drown in the sea while I wanted to disappear in the vastness of space. I wanted to walk around the world and she wanted to find her home. We made absolutely no sense to each other – but we loved each other more than life loves death. We became perfect in all our complexity.
She belonged to me in more ways than I could ever imagine possible, yet I was a rolling stone unable to stay with her for long. We fought like a storm. Me, avoiding her need for commitment, and her always attempting to walk in time with my wandering feet. She made every aspect of my life seem brighter, yet her strongest torches couldn’t pierce the inky atmosphere I instilled in her. She was the force behind my every day and I was the angry tears shed during early morning hours. She blamed me for everything and nothing at all. Her and I were high spirits and unresolved anger and yet, I hid my smile in unnecessary confrontation. Our tentative dance created a rift between who I was and who I wanted to be.
I became parts of her, slowly at first. Her words became my story; her laugh became my melody. All that was left behind was an empty shell of myself, who had now found a home in her. All of her contradictions seemingly made sense. Who she was and who I wanted to be were one in the same. She belonged to me. I was her.
Johanna Kumpula primarily writes fiction within the genres of fantasy and sci-fi. She’s currently in her third year at APU studying to earn her degree in creative and professional writing. When she’s not writing or studying, you can find her fishing at the Kenai River or playing video games with friends. She enjoys long walks on the beach, rainy days, late nights, and her all-time favorite food chocolate chip cookies.