The Winds of May

I sat and watched from the edge of the cliff, as the deep blue of night began to shimmer and grow into the first pale pink of morning light. The colours shifted and twisted around one another, dancing across the sky. It was a glorious, breath-taking sight, the sort of view that inspired artists and poets alike, and yet it was something I never would have appreciated just a few years ago. I had had my priorities wrong for so many years: I allowed my pain to fester into hate; I stood by and watched as loneliness grew into jealousy; I chose to avert my gaze as sadness began to morph into cruelty.

I had sought out power over others rather than regaining control of myself, collecting possessions which were worth nothing more than their monetary value. I thought I had created a world in which I could never feel hurt again, but all I had done was isolate myself from my own humanity.

The twin rings in my hand seemed to grow warmer, as if trying to soothe my thoughts. I knew it was only my imagination, some sort of sensory illusion I had created in a vain attempt to bring myself some comfort, but it helped nonetheless. Looking down at them, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of regret that it had taken me so long to realise my mistakes. Those two small objects meant more to me than any other possession I had ever owned, because she had meant more to me than I could ever have possibly imagined.

Her laugh had been the shock waves which had crumbled the walls I had built around myself to ash. Her smile, as bright as the morning sun, had been my lighthouse in an endless darkness. The first moment her skin touched mine, a fire had flared to life in my once ice-cold heart, chasing away the pain, leaving only love.

Before May, I had been alone for so very long; and now here I was, alone once more.

I couldn’t help but gasp as the rings in my hand seemed to grown warm once more, demanding my attention once more. That too, reminded me of May. How, when I would wake from a night terror, she had taken to planting a single kiss on the centre of my palm.

“So you can hold the heat of my kiss with you always,” had been her reply to my unspoken question. “Then, even when you are alone, you will never be lonely.”

The rings burnt once more, so hot that I dropped them, jumping to my feet in shock. To my utter disbelief, heat continued to radiate from my palm, spreading through my veins like wildfire. Confused, I bent down to pick up the rings in my other hand and found them cool to the touch, while the fire from my left hand continued to rage unquenched.

A great wave of emotion swept over me, a sob catching in my throat as I realised the true cause of this phenomenon.

“May,” was all I could choke out, a smile tugging at my lips as the tears began to fall freely from my eyes, my aching heart confused as to whether it should feel happiness or sorrow.

A sweet, joyous laughter rode the waves of the cool breeze that swept over me, enveloping me in it’s embrace, dampening the overwhelming emotions which had begun to consume me.

Happiness overcame grief, and I laughed along with the wind, riding the emotion like a bird set free.

May had been right; I could never truly be lonely again.

With that final thought, the sun finally burst free of the horizon, as the time finally came for my long life on this earth to end.

At the touch of the light, my body fell to ash in a flurry of warmth, setting my soul free. For a moment, it felt as if I was falling, but then the gentle May breeze swept me up in her arms, and the wind and I danced together in the light of a new day.


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