Part I
I had seen him in a dream, and I wish he would’ve stayed just that — a dream. Now his story lingers onto my soul, and it suffocates me until I acknowledge our story.
Esben. He seemed immortal, but in reality he entered my life when he was twenty-six. The mystery always remained in the empty grey ocean within his eyes. I remember nights when his hair blended in with the sky, and I wondered how someone could be so heavenly. His skin looked and tasted like honey, but ironically he remained cold. Esben was the sunset after you’ve had a confusing day because his soft pink lips could curl up and remind you that the answers would appear among the stars, so you’d sit in a temporary euphoria while you waited. I often daydreamed about every definition of his body. Esben ran from his problems I later found out, and while doing so he managed to obtain a physique that any girl would obsess over. His long, lean torso complimented his lengthy legs that I wish would’ve stayed. My favorite part of the day was looking up at him while he drank his morning coffee and got lost in the sunrise, but after it was complete, he’d turn slightly to the side and I would get to trace his sharp jawline.
I lived in a parallel universe while I was with him… in one that allowed us to be together without any restraints, but literally speaking, we lived in Lily dale, New York. A place where the rain fell slowly, and brought with it a sense of purity. Esben had grown up in the city that never sleeps, so while he finished his first novel he chose a location that wasn’t as loud as his thoughts. I loved him because of his intelligence and wit. He had always been an intriguing man, and he never liked to give credit to his degrees from Columbia. He would often tell me that he was born with the need to confess many secrets, so writing could only be his way of life. At times, he would look at me for long periods of time to try to figure me out like I wanted to decode him as well, but instead he would get up and just smile at me. His smile looked purely innocent and I’d crave the sugar on his lips, but he wreaked of sin.
I met a lonely man, trying to finish his story but I began to feel like my dreams were filled with less mystery than my waking life. I felt the strength in Esben’s hands after he’d stroke his hair then reach for my hands in hopes that I would radiate calmness to him. Our morning kisses disappeared in the same lake that was consumed by our lost love and hidden secrets. His hands grew more cold, but he would often touch the water to feel something… something that gave him pleasure, and afterwards he would turn to me and just smile.
Part II
Months went by… the book was not finished and I remember having nightmares of the most peculiar things. I would often feel that I was insane for dreaming of such things, but the scenarios felt more vivid and soon I would worry that the dreams would sit at the edge of my feet at night.
Each time I looked at him, it made me shiver. He had grown more and more cold each day. I would observe him while he sipped his coffee and I felt the happiness each time his lips slightly felt the burn of the mug and then he would swallow the blackness, slowly. Esben would let the heat slither down his throat and once it consumed him, he would close his eyes and toss his head back in ecstasy. He would turn on “Gnossiennes: No. 4” and look out the glass window that gave a clear view to the lake. Afterwards I would listen to him type on his typewriter, anxiously and I often lost sleep because of it.
One cloudy morning, I sat up and didn’t even turn toward Esben to make sure that he was still sleeping. I slid off our soft silk sheets, and felt the numbing floor brush against my feet. I walked toward the front door, and stepped outside as if it were my escape. Our cabin had steps of stairs and often I would sit there and reminisce about my life before Esben. That morning I remembered the day I met him. I was a student at Columbia. My focus was literature, so the only love I had at the time was for words. I spent my days at the library living in the worlds that other people would write for me. I remember stroking my straight, short black hair that day while I held onto Kate Chopin’s, “The Awakening” in my other hand. My green eyes never wandered off, but that day was different… they had a mind of their own and they found Esben. When he walked in that early morning, everything went silent. I even remember hearing the wind whistle a short tune in honor of his entrance into my life. In that moment I hoped that my golden skin would turn pale and make me unnoticeable in the midst of all the gloom. I looked into my book, in hopes that he would disappear and it would all just feel like a dream, but when I looked up he stood before me. I slightly opened my pale lips in hopes that something would escape, but he beat me to it.
“The Awakening, is it a good read?” asked Esben.
“Well, it depends on the person I suppose..” I replied shyly, with fear that the conversation would proceed. I liked reading words, but speaking them was another story.
Esben gave me a small smile and said, “Convince me that I should borrow it from you.”
I remember his perfect smile, and most of all, I remember becoming lost in that moment. I wanted him to borrow the book, so then I would have an excuse to see him again. If this was his way of flirting, I was thoroughly amused.
“I umm… don’t know.”
Esben stood there waiting for me to give him a better response because obviously that wouldn’t cut it. I felt my cheeks burning, and I wanted so desperately to fix my answer, but I was so nervous. When I looked up he wasn’t confused as to why I couldn’t reply to him. It’s like in that moment he knew that his question had shaken my nerves in the best way possible. His smile stayed.
“I apologize for interrupting your reading. I’ll see you around, stranger” he replied confidently as he turned away, and walked towards the entrance.
At that moment, I felt that I would always regret not replying to him. I stood up with my book in hand and ran towards the entrance and opened the doors and saw him walking, slowly. The wind moved his dark hair, and his long black trench coat matched the scene. I raced toward him, realizing that I had forgotten my coat inside. The cold air hit me, but I did not mind at that instant.
I reached for his arm, and Esben turned. I looked crazy, but he was not startled. He looked at me and smiled.
“Do you have your answer, stranger?” he asked.
“Yes, I do.” I couldn’t help but to smile back.
“I’ll tell you mine if you promise me something.” I quickly added.
“I can’t keep a promise to a stranger, so I will keep my promise if you tell me your name,” he replied.
His voice was the perfect amount of deep, but there was also a tender tone to it. It was like tasting black coffee with the perfect portion of honey drizzled into it.
“Ophelia. My name is Ophelia.” I replied with relaxation in my voice, and afterwards I looked down to find that my hand was still attached to his arm, but before I could let it fall he grabbed my hand. It sent shivers down my spine, and suddenly I felt like a teenager with butterflies in my stomach.
“You’re freezing! Here take my jacket, Ophelia.”
My name slipped out of his mouth like he had been saying it all his life.
“No. It’s okay. My answer will only take a second.”
I handed him the book and he reached for it.
“Maybe because Chopin makes a tragic ending seem liberating and makes death look like freedom,” I replied, effortlessly.
I remember he looked at me and simply smiled, and in that I found all the comfort I ever longed for. Even after he walked away and left me with my response, I knew I would see him again, and I did every day, after that.
I sat in the cold on those steps and began to cry in silence. I knew my soul had disappeared once I entered his world. A few months after I met Esben, he begged me to come along with him and in the end I chose to give up my dream of becoming a professor to stand by his side while he slowly got closer to his dream. I cried and I cried that morning until I felt an internal drought that led to emptiness, once again. Then I stared into the grey skies and swallowed my sorrow and walked back inside to find myself trapped. I was unaware that that was the day my life would change forever.
Part III
Esben looked at me and managed to use words outside of his writing.
“Where have you been?” he asked calmly.
“I just needed some air, that’s all… I’m sorry, I did not want to wake you.”
Esben laughed a little, and walked towards me slowly. He kissed my lips passionately and then wrapped his arms around my body. I felt his breath escalate down my back and it felt euphoric. A few seconds later he backed away from me altogether.
“Come watch the lake with me” he said calmly while looking into my green eyes.
“I love the way the water stands still with no desire to be anything but beautiful — like you, Ophelia” Esben said.
I followed him towards the window and observed the lake, and realized that the water reflected what was behind us in that cabin — our bed. It all made sense now. Esben had been watching me all this time, while I assumed he was staring at the darkness that the water had to offer. I touched the lonely window, and kept my back towards Esben.
“I do not understand how you find clarity in watching dark waters. All I see is… darkness” I said with shaking hands and water in my eyes. Over time I had become overly emotional and skeptical at all times.
“Like you, this lake is empty. It leaves me wanting to find answers in its beauty, but the more I stare into its depth the more lost I feel. That’s how I feel with you. I wait for the lake to hold more meaning to me, but it simply stands still.” Esben replied, but this time his tone of voice had a hint of anger in it.
I felt my legs go numb and I quickly sat down at Esben’s desk. He was pacing back and forth while I sat there with tears sliding down my rosey cheeks. I couldn’t see anything past the water in my eyes, but then I found myself looking at his typewriter. I wiped away the tears, and let my fear paint a picture on my face.
I looked up at Esben who stood right beside me, and felt his hands grasp my neck, softly. The green in my eyes was hidden by darkness, and while my breath fought to hold onto me I heard the wind whistle a short tune. I opened my eyes and looked into Esben’s empty eyes and suddenly saw him for the first time.
Esben visits the lake, every day. He stares into the stillness and then kneels down to touch it. He smiles, and I like to think that he finally found meaning in that lake and in me. Perhaps my tragic ending was liberating for him or perhaps my story was his all long.
