#2

He handed her a white rose with a smile. “Its time to move on again, Sam.”

Sam’s typing quickened as she adjusted her beanie, her ‘thinking cap’ as she called it. 

“Just another second,” she mumbled “I’m almost done.”

Ace sat down with a thud. “You said that ten minutes ago. ‘I’m almost done, I’m almost done.’” he mimicked. 

“I’M ALMOST FINISHED, ACE!” she shouted as she punched him in the chest.

He winced in pain.

She stopped typing in mid sentence. 

“Babe - I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean -”

“Its fine.” he interrupted. “How’s your writing coming along?”

She slammed her laptop shut before he could read a word.

“I’m ready to go.”

Ever since they’ve found each other, Ace and Sam have never stopped moving. Funded by the money they made by selling Ace’s paintings at art shows, the couple take road trips through small towns. The pair: always moving and never stopping, heading for New York City. 

#1 1/2

They had met in a quite unusual manner. 

And somehow, by a stroke of luck and an act of grace, 

                            after years upon years of waiting, 

                                               their two worlds had finally 

                  crashed.

           collided

               

           and they had found each other. 

#1.

“I want to leave this place.” she said.
She shook her shaggy hair and put on her beanie. With her arms stretched out, she reached for his.
“ I want to leave this place. I want to leave everything behind. I want to drive until all is forgotten. Until where we are now is but a forgotten memory.”

“This again?” He hadn’t moved.
She glanced at his face; still in the moonlight.

“Yes, ‘this again’. If you’re so sick of me asking to leave, why don’t you take me away?” she challenged.

“Because you never forget.”

“Huh?” she seemed puzzled. “What do you mean ‘I never forget’?”

“You want to leave only to forget. But we both know that you can never forget anything, Sam. And if there is something that that complex brain of yours misses, it will surely show up in your writing. You won’t miss a thing. So the trip would be a waste.”

She laid back down onto the cool grass.

“I still want to leave, Ace.” she sighed.

“I know,” he said. “I know”.

welcome to my reality.

Completely detached.
Dissociation?

No reality but mine.
Nothing is real.
Nothing hurts.
Nothing is the same as it is in your world.

The hair thats cut, always grows back by the time I am submerged back into your reality.
Like leaves falling in winter.
They have to go.

The skin that is burnt isnt hurt.
The steam water from the shower isnt felt.
Fire's very flame itself is nonexistant here.

Cuts dont bleed here.
In yours, yes. When I'm back in yours there will be blood.

But they dont bleed here.


Nothing is as it seems in my world.
               Welcome to my reality.

nine.

I don't feel a thing.

                        And oddly enough,




I feel better.

numb.

I've had countless conversations with thousands of people about emotions.
Some have been happy.
Some have been love sick.
Some have been depressed.
Some have felt useless.

I've been numb.

I've been completely void of any emotion.
Lost in time.

I live in my own reality; somewhere where no real being can visit.
I've been submerged in complete nothingness with my companions:
                                Sam and the voices in my head.

Sometimes its pleasant
                 an escape from the stresses and anxieties that others' reality may bring.
Sometimes its scary
                  with voices mumbling.
                              voices screaming. 
                                      voices laughing.
                  with visions of nonexistent enemies hiding in the shadows.
                                        surrounding me.
Sometimes its unwanted 
                    I'm quickly whisked away from happiness and forced to enter my world.
                              Forced to leave everything behind.

But it's not as if I am able to disappear into a far off land, or a kingdom engineered by my own imagination.
I'm still here.
I'm still in your world - but you are gone.

I walk amongst you, visible in a large crowd.
But the crowd is invisible to me.

I walk down the street and past faceless people and walking shadows.

Im stopped for a conversation about the time:
I check my watch.          
                                     "3:45, sir."
                                                         I respond thirty minutes after the man had left.


There is no 'time' in my world. Needless to say, it is completely useless to us here.