Nothing
“That night. The night that we did what we did because we wanted to. That night, our marriage didn’t work.
I didn’t care - And neither did you.
We blamed it on the shock, the guys, the drugs on everything but us.
One canot explain how this mutal attraction towards each other occurs. It’s a mystery to mankind. You end up falling for life or someone. And you won’t make an inconsiderate decicion you’d think.
But once you dared to crossed the line you’re just stirring towards the unavoidable and then you cannot stop. It strikes you. Truths will tell and vanquish what you so desperately tried to hide. You‘re fighting a looseing battle.
We both know that what we said afterwards was utter bullshit.
Nevertheless, we kept on playing our game even after it was long over.
Let‘s face it we talked shit to hide how we really felt.
Like we were walking in place not daring to take the next step, arms outstreched only to keep our distance not to embrace, everything an unspoken rule dancing around the inevitable but ultimately crashing into the unavoidable.
That night however. That night has neither a start nor an ending. It was a dangerous game we played not thinking about its repercussion. We started it before we knew it was happening and it ended with us falling.
It’s the tragedy of a forbidden affair of two fighting hearts. You can’t love anything more than something that feels so wrong.
This night however, never happened.
It never existsed. We made sure of that.
And when you have nothing. You don‘t have to worry about it because you have nothing too lose at all. It‘s better like this.”
Yea that night. It changed everything. Did it not? It was chaos and hurt...desire, confuestion, intense. Filled with truths, lies, nothing and all of us. Then we wrote it off as something trivial.
We created a place that never existed. It was an inexistent place, a void and when we were inside, we didn’t exist either.
Neither we nor our doings.
“It wasn’t an insegnificant incident.
It’s what we wanted to believe in.
But it wasn’t. - Not to me at least.
And even if you never mentioned it yourself I know that it had effected you in one way or another aswell.“
Of course you knew. A scoff escaped Maca in disbelieve.
“We could have lived in all sorts of alternate universes different from this one yet this one. This one is the one that happened. We can’t change that.
You can’t rewrite the past.
We didn’t need to.
We played our game.”
Maca just read through it. Unable to fathom her feelings or anything else at all. She just sat there her tears uncontrollably rolling down her cheeks. Dripping on the black ink. Infesting the words with poisonous black streams. Zulemas words were heavily hanging in the air.
Outside it had gotten darker the sun was almost down so she stood up and put on the lights. Enableing her to continue reading.
The sky was now crying with her hitting the windows in a steady pace.
“ In between what happened that night and what followed there was a significant incident that set the butterfly effect into motion. You surely remember.”
How couldn’t I?
“It was still early in the morning when I decided to take a shower. Little did I know that I’d get hit with one of these seizures of mine with full force.
I fell down in the shower and hit my head.
Unconciouss, but only for a couple of seconds. It must have been quite loud though because when I regained conciousness you were there, already by my side.
You were so worried that you had kicked in the fucking door. Puta we had no door for weeks because we had to stay low.
You were there by my side ready to do the best you could to help me in some sort of way. Though there was nothing much you could do to be honest, still, you tried.
Meanwhile I lay there. Naked on the bathroom floor a memorable cut on my forhead from the fall. Head buzzing, and a little confuested by the sudden black out. All I felt in that mpment was the warm blood streaming down over my face, ruining your clothes. And then, there was another warmth. The heat of your body against my bare back. Radiating sanctuary. You had put something over the cut but it wouldn‘t stop bleeding.
You didn’t mind the still running water much less me barely covered in you lap ruining your clothes with a mixture of water and blood. You simply asked what the fuck was up. Sincerly worried.
I didn’t answer.
So you kept on pressing new washing cloths against the cut in vain trying to make it stop bleeding eventually. I didn‘t dare to move a lash.
Being embarressed that you witness it. More so, as I was resting on your lap stripped and fragile.”
You had bruises all over your body. As if you’d just been in a fight. There were the ones back from prison too. These wounds were blamishes on a otherwise perfect being. I didn’t ask about them either. Now, I wish I had. I wish I had done more.
“Shakeing but mostly hurt in my pride. I was feeble, if only for a trivial moment in time. I was exposed and with it my self inflicted lesions.
I couldn’t bring myself to meet your eyes. Not even for a second.
Weakness, for me, is something intolerable. Something forbidden. I stay true to that.
You however, already soaked, because the shower was still running, just got up and handed me a towel to cover myself up. You ask me again if I needed anything else. Still not dareing to ask about the bruises or anything else. Plainly, offerering your help. Earnestly. I told you to get my pills. That’s when you found out.”
I, not in the slightes, had been able to comprehend how deeply hurt you had been by then. You never talked to me. Never opend up. I had to piece together what you handed me. How was I ever suppossed to make it right in time, when you never gave me a chance to.
She remembered. She found the pills. Read the label. And as her eyes followed each letter over and over again her world started crumbeling. She didn’t know how to react. Wasn’t able to fathom what had been just revealed to her. She was hurt too. Not because Zulema didn’t tell her. She never did. But she felt left out either way. Zulema didn’t trust her enough to open up about this. It would have been a weakness for her and she understood that the raven haired woman couldn‘t show that.
Thinking back it was selfish. More than that. But she didn’t let her feelings show. It wasn’t her priority. She was there for her partner as good as she was capeable too.
It was the least she could do.
Macarena had to wait for a long time before Zulema eventually came out of the Bathroom. Somewhat different, calmer and more apathatic. Yet the complete opposing.
The other womans body was trembeling as if she was still in shock. Maca gathered all her courage and embraced Zulema tightly. A gesture Zulema wouldn’t have allowed under normal circumstances, but for whatever reason she surrendered.
Her arms limply dangling by her side. Not returning the embrace, yet welcomeing it.
Head resting on Macas shoulder.
Her figure was so small, somehow smaller than she used to be. Merely resting against Macas body.
So small, Maca was able to rest her shin on top of her head. One hand cupping the back of her head the other resting on the other womans lower back supporting her stance. Both looking into the abyss.
*
“It‘ll be over soon. It’ll be fine. You will b ...”, Maca said in a whisper, not trusting herself to let that last world slip through her lips.
I couldn’t tell you because I did not know if it was the truth. I didn’t know.
Maca thought distressed.
This wasn’t Zulema. This was a resigned fighter. Someone done fighting.
And Maca didn’t like that thought either.
I was wrong. You weren’t done. Not by a long shot.
No. Zulema thought silently although Maca hadn‘t said it out loud. “This possibility didn‘t go by unexplored. You were about to gift it to me, this possibility of surviving but you snatched it away eventually as you want to leave.”
Her mind was set.
I won‘t be coming back this time
*
They stood like that in the middle of their Caravan.
Zulema covered by only her towel. The white of it a homage of an peace offering directed at Maca. The crimson red stains from her cut a foreshadowing of what was yet to come.
Maca’s clothes were ruined. Clinging to her skin like zulema. Firm as a rock. Keeping them both above water. Keeping them afloat.
Neither one bothered.
And for a moment time stood still for them. The world had stopped rotating if only for an blink of an eye. It was enough for a reset.
“When I finally found the courage to leave the bathroom you were there and took me under your wing.
I let you do it because I needed it at that time. To gain some much needed strength back.
I wanted life to stop right there and then to stay in that moment forever. On halt.
Maybe, just maybe that would have made the impropable relation between us possible.”
Yes, maybe staying in that moment wouldn’t have been too bad.
From the wrong perspective failing can feel like ascending. We were falling towards our doom but at times during our heists and all it did feel like we were flying.
It was reason enough for her so she didn’t push her away.
She wanted to, badly, but she managed to resisted that urge.
Zule wanted to go undo everything and start anew but she didn’t dare to do that either. Out of caution or out of pride she did not know. And she didn’t need to find out as Maca made that step for her. She stepped back and Zulema felt the cold creeping in again.
That morning we talked like lost souls with each other. Everything we said remained in our non existing place. That way it never happened. We we’re safe.
The next day we did what we did best. Ignoring what we didn’t want to be true. Everything went back to normal. As if nothing had ever happened.
It pained her to think about that. Their lost chances .
At least we were alive.
When they parted Macarenas eyes took the scorpion in front of her in she looked at her and at the same time through her.
She understood, no words were needed.
Zulema on the other hand only saw the path ahead of her, which was no path at all. Only redemption.
“ I wanted to take the chaos inside me, throw it back at you as a telling question. To make sense of it all.
I didn’t. Out of disheartenment but mainly not to hurt my ego. I was ashamed.
Wanting to hate you the same way as I used to but failing miserably. It was to late. We had already crossed the line.
Truth be told, I never hated you in the first place. How could I when you were the first one who stepped up and talked back at me. Scarred shitless and as dumb as someone can be no doubt about that but with enough bravery to start a loseing battle.
I marveled that.”
How broken can someone be?
“Ever since that moment. When you saw me so beaten up. I had no more reason to stay strong in front of you. I needn’t do that. For once in my life I allowed myself to let go.
I became duncish for a second. I got so beaten up, thrown down and kicked at over and over and over again that I wanted to rest just once.
My fight didn’t leave me. It never will. I just needed a break.
Therefor, I sunk down to the floor as your embrace had stopped supporting me.
I didn’t cry then. How can you cry when there are no more tears left to cry.
Someone once told me that when you cry too much you’ll end up useing them all. Leaving you behind without any more tears to shed.
It’s true. You can cry your tears away. I spilled mine when I was still young. Only once in a while they came through more consendation water than anything.
Only when you tried to kill me and my heart was about to burst did the last tears leave me. That was a long time ago and now they’re all gone. So even if there was a reason now to cry. No tears would come. They’re were non left. Leaving, only bitterly frustration and anger within. So I ended up doing what I did best. Being destructive.”
I’ve seen you cry once. When you were on the edge of life. When I had tried to rob you of your liberte. No tears of fear left you that day, but tears of betrayl. Not even after your daughter died. You never shed a tear. There were reasons. Plently of reasons. But you never did.
The storm outside was picking up speed. It was completly dark outside now even throught it hasn’t yet struck 6pm. The lake was uneasy, small waves were angryly washing up on the shore.
And the trees on the clearing where beginning to totter.
“My fists found the ruff floor of our Caravan. And I hit it. Time and time again. Screaming.“
Maca remembered that scream. It was as if suddenly with this scream all the hurt within that broken soul had found it’s voice.
„Knuckles soaked in blood spilling droplets everywhere.
I wanted to break every single bone in my hand. I wanted to punch a hole through the floor. Hell, all I wanted was to feel something, though, I felt nothing at all.
And you, you stood there oberserving me. Not makeing a move.
You didn’t stop me, Maca. Why didn‘t you stop me?”
Because I didn’t know what the fuck I was suppossed to do. I didn’t know how to handle you. Or I did and didn’t know back then. I gave you time. But our time was running out.
“My world became fast and loud for a moment sourrounding me completely. Punching without end.
Eventually, I was to selfish to break my hands over such a dumb reason... and unsatisfied with the pain I let it be.
With only a few month left I wasn’t willing to spend them as a crippled senile shadow of myself.
Looking down at my trembling hand we only saw a bloody mess. I didn’t dare to move so you just lowered yourself down to rest next to me. We sat there in silence. In mids a pool of sweat and blood. Out of breath.”
Maca stopped once more. The outside world had brought her back to reality as a loud thunder had strucked. The storm swelling.
Our hearts sounded like a buzzing battlefield. One beating with rage one with sorrow. Indifferent but one. They felt as if they kept on failing in life. In the end it didn’t matter. The result was always the same. It was irrelevant. Because that moment never existed either.
“ We sat on the floor like hurt animals. Just waiting for our fate to hit.
At least in that moment I was prepared to fall apart if it came to that. Luckily it didn‘t happen.”
That was it. Nothing else happened. They spent the rest of the day apart. Not daring to touch on such a fragile subject. Maca recalled. New years eve came and the butterfly effect picked up momentum.
Zulema had gone out. Somewhere into the city Maca guessed. She cared so much but not enough to follow her. She trusted her not to do something stupid, after what had happened in the morning.
Only at nightfall it was that Zulema returned.
Maca had been right she indeed had been in the city. Her guess was varified when she was greeted with a couple of bags filled with groceries.
Macarena wanted to help her unload but Zule spat at her, she shouldn’t baby her. So Maca left her alone. She didn’t want to fight.
Zule had unloaded the car on her own and then locked herself inside the Caravan. Time went by and from time to time Maca had caught her watching through the window. She didn’t look in order to leave Zule thinking she was sublte when really she wasn’t. By 23:30 Zule finally opened the door.
Maca had been locked out all day.
Spending her unwanted freetime outside sitting on their makeshift sofa infront of the caravan. Constantly switching between reading and smokeing.
As the door opened Maca turned to look at Zulema, still smokeing her joint unimpressed with hodded eyes.
„So can I go in now and pee in a proper toilet?“, she asked more bored than annoyed.
Zule didn‘t answer only steped to the side in order to make room for her to pass through.
When Maca ran inside passing by, Zulema could smell her scent. Her eyes closed on their own account for a second. Breathing in and allowing her scent to seep in. A mixture of Vanilla and Muskat with a hint of weed trickeled into her nostrils. She smiled at that calmer now. The smell of Home.