Jackie
The idea taken from Sinead O’Connor `s song, Huge thanks to her for this beautiful song
Once my Jackie left. He left to sail the sea. Every evening during twenty years I went to the seashore and looked on the cold surface of sea. I hoped, that someday these angry black waves will come into the sky-blue and my Jackie will come into the picture, but it was never going to happened. I laid on the beach late at night and felt paranoid. I thought about how beautifully the colour of Jackie’s eyes will go with the colour of sparkling moonlight on the black surface. I thought about how aliens are making home movie about me in exactly that moment and through my sorrow I was even trying to pose for them. I was singing lullabies to the empty cans of cola, and they seemed to be not that empty, cause they were fulfilled with you. Everything around was full with my Jackie. I thought about endless possibilities of a person, but the sea had much more of them. Everyone said, that my Jackie will never come again, never`ll give me a hug, never will hold my arm so tender and sometimes even painfully. And I cried. Maybe, all those powerful oceans are made of tears of people that were waiting for their Jackie, too.
When I needed to do something with my mind or body (or I` d go crazy one day) , I threw a lot of little rocks into the waves, then I felt like I am feeding a horrifying monster , and little explosions of this salty, blue chemistry mixture made me feel a little more calmly. But everyday my hope was dying in it. I found myself useless member of society and absolutely hopeless creature, because the feeling of being betrayed by the only person, whom I’ve ever loved, made me throw myself into walls and crying, screaming for help. I knew that maybe he is dead, and instead of heartbeat now he has only sound of splashes of the ocean inside his veins, but he promised to come back, so I would find his death as a betrayal.
Oh, what am I talking about? Why am I thinking about myself so much? During all that twenty years I’ve never thought about how my Jackie is doing. I only thought about what I will do without him. And never thought about how is he now, alone, when I’m not there. And even when I was thinking about him, I thought about is he thinking about me. Indeed I was a miserable person, but sometimes I felt happy. Because all those people, who never felt any pain or sufferings – they don’t know what do words “Wonderful” and “exciting” mean , because their lives can be described in only one word- normal. They are normal, absolutely normal.
They are never uptight. They are never impressed by anyone or anything, Photos are just photos, friend is just a friend, world is just a world. Life is just a life. I always understood that we all are dying. And that’s quite natural. Because if someday we will day, it means that now we are dying, but some people do nothing except of it. During the whole life they are just dying. Existing – not living. Everything’s under control. But I’ve lost it. So now I was under nothing – except sky.
I felt this life like an unbearably easy project that I could finish whenever I want. I was free.
I had nothing to live for. The sense of my life seemed never to come home again.
So in every glorious second of my life I could die. Or just run away. But I laid on that empty beach for twenty years, hoping.
But once everything has changed.
One evening, when I, as usual, came to the place, I saw another man up there, screaming. I saw his face, eyes full of tears, but I heard nothing. His screams seemed absolutely soundless to me. And when I sat beside him, he didn’t notice. So we laid near each other without even saying “hi”.
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I felt even lonelier, than when I was alone here. We threw rocks together; we sang the same lullabies, but still I heard nothing and he saw nothing. I staid there for the night.
Next evening other two men came. The story repeated. More and more people were coming here to wait their own Jackie. And among them I felt lonelier and lonelier. And when beach, my beach, washed with my salty tears came into a nightclub for crying people I felt myself as lonely, as a person sitting inside the latest bus home feels, looking on the empty street. Or as lonely, as the driver of a train, ringing train flying through the city nightlights. Or as lonely, as city nightlights, as each street lamp among the whole picture of nightlights, that was exactly how I felt. About two hundred sentences were carved into the sand; they said «Please, come back. »
And that was like a cheap pop music. I was carving it into my arms, legs, and covered it with my clothes. But they just waned to make a dramatic picture. It seemed like all that people come together against me. But in fact, here no one heard anyone. Each human being here was fully covered with his own sorrow. And everyone here felt just like I did. And if we once just started to talk and turn into one machine, everything could be better. We could together kill this everlasting loneliness. But I never wanted to stop thinking that I am one. That all these people are already into one machine, and I am fighting against. I couldn’t even image, how wrong I was.
Suddenly I heard people` s crying. I turned to see what happened. The stream of people was going towards us. I felt a little frightened, but also I was looking for Jackie’s face there. I turned to crying people. They were all looking for someone` s face there, too. I didn’t understand anything. Everyone for whom they were waiting is back (and, by the way, it has reminded me about a cheap pop-song, too) and they are still screaming here. They all were looking on me, directly in eyes. Their eyes were full of envy and pain. They saw my Jackie holding my hand.
I’ve seen no one and nothing nearby. It was empty
And we all were empty.
Hi I am Thom, 36 years. My Jackie is lost, and he will never be found. Twenty years ago I hugged him for the last time. He is lost in the sea. I am lost in. I am useless member of society. Everything` s gone out of control. I` m Thom, 36 years, and I want to run away.