quarta-feira, 14 de novembro de 2012

MURMÚRIOS DE LISBOA CXV

The Magician - Part XII


The magician disappeared. That is why he is the magician.
Of all the things she thought might happen, she never thought of this. Well, actually she did, but it was just a quick thought that did not dwell inside her mind enough to make her panick. She did think that he might one day disappear for ever. She did think that nothing lasts forever. She did consider that he might not be there for all eternity. In fact, that is precisely one of the reasons that made her consider the letter seriously enough.
The magician is now gone. Without a word. Without a breath. Gone.
And she considers this very obvious lesson - we always only care about the things we no longer have. For years he was there. For years he was always there. And sometimes she wouldn't even give him a second glance. For years she took him for granted. For years she never considered the fact that one day, someday, any day, he might in fact disappear.
The magician did what a magician is supposed to do. And now she knows that hiding beneath the mask of a vampire was not a werewolf but a magician.
She cannot believe that after all these years and when she finally decided to do something, he disappeared. But disappear he did. Without a word. Without a breath. Gone.
And now she misses him. Now the space between her and where he used to be is vacant, empty, a black void of nothingness. It feels empty inside her. She feels empty. The magician took something else with him - he took the possibility of them. And this is the hardest part of it all. When he made his magic number and disappeared from the vicinity, he took with him a part of her, the part that was hoping, the part that always hoped.
He doesn't know this, of course. He will probably, most surely, never know this, of course. He will never guess. He will never imagine. He will never suspect. Even if the letter reached him.
She hopes. For one thing only. Well, let's be honest, she hopes for two things. She hopes he at least reads the letter. And then, she hopes he might follow his heart. But she knows it's a lost hope.
Still, she does not regret what she did. In the great circle of life, in the great frame of the universe, she sent those words from her heart in the hope they would reach the heart of the magician, somehow. And then she let the universe take care of the rest.

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