Sanoja: Her Space Holiday. The Telescope Reading (Of Course).

He lived alone
with his books and his records and his telescope
with all the doors locked
days piled upon each other one by tedious one
until the pressure finally created a diamond like thought
and he was instantly sad
Ive read every book,
Ive heard every song,
and Ive seen every star from the safety of my bedroom.
and i am empty.
in defeat he slumped forward with his eyes still pressed against the telescope
just then his lungs began to expand,
he blinked rapidly,
alternating his eyes between squinting
and making his eyes as wide as saucers
he cried out, "of course"
with all the hours spent looking up
it never crossed his mind to veer straight ahead.
He spent days upon days taking it all in
he say children grow to become men
and men grow to become fools.
he saw hope, beauty, war, strength, weakness, chaos, stillness
he watched until he could recite each scene from memory,
eventually he wrote his own books about what he saw
and he made his own songs about what he thought he had heard
until almost he himself believed what he was creating to be true
until lie upon lie piled on top of itself
until the pressure finally created a pearl-like thought
he spoke to the world,
Ive seen all of your lives
and Ive heard all of your conversations,
and i am hungry.

In frustration,
he dropped to his knees
and began to bang his head against the old wooden door
"of course" he cried out
and without hesitation
ha stood up,
put on his coat and hat, and turned the knob.
but before hid first step even hit the ground
he was faced with the most unexpected of emotions
one that he could only figure to be
what his favorite books and records refer to as love.
"where are you going?" she asked him
"i don't know"
"me too" she smiled
ill take you there, she extended her tiny hand
and swept him away with her.

They walked until their feet bled
during their journey she told him all the places she had been
and all the people she had met along the way.
a new emotion began to unfold inside of him
one he thought he had overheard in a conversation looking through his telescope
it was the word fear
why would she choose me? he thought.
i know so little
not wanting to lose her interest,
he began telling her stories he thought she might be impressed by
but all they did was make her question his strength and ability to battle the enemies
that she knew would surely jump out at them one day
but she still kept her faith in him and they continued walking

what amazing things they saw
they danced in dark caves,
warmed their faces by the brightest of fires,
and played with brilliant children in the blue Spanish sea
but even amidst all that gorgeousness,
their hands began to slip.
first from palms, then to fingertips, then to nothingness.
they stood still,
she faced south, and he faced west.
he called out to her,
I'm leaving now, and i blame you for the state we're in

and through all of our adventures Ive done nothing wrong
and though you've taught me how to breathe,
I'm taking my new voice and leaving you hear with nothing.

She looked back and cried out to him,
we drew a map together that you promised you would follow with me.
i too am scared,
especially after you stole my strength and made it your own.
but i am still reaching for your hand,
knowing it will fit more perfectly than ever
if you will only reach back to me.
but he didn't reach back, he was vain and confused.
he tried to make a new map, but he didn't know where to put the "X" anymore.
so he walked in circles,
he lost his rhythm,
he froze by the fire,
and he drowned in the sea,
he made himself what he had feared the most,
incomplete.
and even though the decision was his, and his alone,
he blamed her for that too.

but the whole time she followed him
looking for fallen twigs and fresh footprints to see where he was going
but all he left in his path were messages written in the dirt with a broken stick
scrawled lies of anger and shifted blame,
until one day he wrote the word "help" when he needed her most.
but by then she had stopped trying to read his thoughts
and make sense of his misery.
so he headed back to where he started,
back to his books and his records and his telescope,

Battered and broken,
he finally reached the edge of his street
only to find her waiting for him.
and upon seeing her soft smile,
he immediately knew what he had done,
he knew what he had lost,
he knew how sorry he was.
for the first time she was real to him.
they sat and spoke about everything they should have
in the beginning of their story
and through all the tears he learned that she had been walking her entire life
and that she wasn't waiting for him to go into the world with her at all
no, she was in fact waiting for him to invite her into his house
so she could read his books, hear his records and look through the telescope
behind the safety of his locked door.

what a fool he thought
i didn't realize that with all this time i spent looking out this window
you were right there looking back at it.
at me, at this, at us.
i already had what you had been traveling these roads searching for.
she crumbled under the weight of hearing her own truth.
and through their honesty,
they were both as strong as they can be
and now under the relief of each note of forgiveness
no thought appeared to them, just a feeling.
and he whispered to her,
Ive seen your efforts,
and i can feel your love for me,
and i am whole.
i still have places to visit and mistakes to make in private
but take my home and make it your own,
recite lines from my favorite books in the garden,
hear the songs closest to my life while you sleep in my bed,
and look through me waving at you through my telescope.
he raised his hand and he rested it on her chest,
and he drew an X across her heart.
"of course" he thought.
he slowly closed the old wooden door
and he locked it behind him.