An Overdue Memory

We've been waiting for this day for a long time. How long can one stay at Mom's? Just a signature, a mere formality.

Finally, it's here. The long-awaited metal friend. The friend who allowed me to enter your magical world.

A place no one but you ever enters. Many times, walking through your soul, I've seen the inscription: 'Come back later.'

But I was always in a hurry. I won't say I'm a master of patience.

However, sitting together many times in our beloved wilderness, watching the clouds drift overhead, I saw the chain crack, disappear, and behind it, another gate open.

And there was fire. Not the kind that burns and destroys. Oh no! This was a fire that soothes. It takes a heart, cold and unfeeling as stone, in its warm hands...

Gently as a feather, it tickles the soles of my feet, making me smile involuntarily. A smile helps, a smile comforts, a smile releases hope. Hope is like an echo of love. It appears and disappears and returns. Like a boomerang, a childhood candy.

Key in the lock. Two left turns. A gentle push on the doorknob, and there it is. It opens. An old pine door. Do you know how happy I was when you first opened it for me? That I had someone to come home to. That you would always be waiting for me at home.

"Knock, and it will be opened for you," my grandmother often said. That was the only one I liked of all her wisdom. And you opened it for me...

A distinctive smell; it's been a long time since they aired the place... I looked at you. You had fire in your eyes. The same when I first kissed you. I'd been waiting for this for a long time. I was afraid of rejection. I tried to protect myself somehow internally.

To try to live, despite everything. If only I'd known then how beautiful it was. And that fire. It returns every now and then. I didn't ask for it. It comes when I need it most. Can a person light it on their own?

Holding hands, we took the first step. We're already here. Absorbing each other, we surveyed our apartment in silence. One room, two, three, a kitchen, a bathroom, and of course, a balcony. On the west side. In my dreams, I saw one sunset after another.

We didn't need words. The silence was so beautiful...

We didn't mind that everything was in a raw state. White walls and dusty floors. But we had a vision for our little corner. We had planned everything long in advance. Every detail. Even the cross Grandma had given us. It didn't bother me, and Grandma would be happy.

Personally, I treated the cross like any other piece of furniture. I even liked it. "In the cross there is suffering, in the cross there is salvation," Grandma used to say. For me, the only synonym for suffering were the moments when you weren't by my side. My religion was to love and be loved. You, too, were never a practicing Catholic.

When people went to church, we walked in the park. When they fasted, we had the time of our lives... When they grieved, we laughed... And now they're laughing, and we're gone...

After one party, I was left alone in the house. It was impossible to move, it was such a mess. The company had finished visiting, and you went to sleep with your mother. You were angry with me... Moreover, the percentages "helped" me express everything that was inside me, in that hidden, dark part of me.

I can still hear the slam of the door to this day. The same door we opened together.

It was late, well after midnight. Twilight enveloped the entire room. Outside the window, I could hear the faint sound of raindrops falling on the windowsill. Drip, drip, drip. Sometimes the moon would peek out from behind the clouds to check if everything was alright... But everything wasn't alright.

From that evening on, nothing was alright. I paced the apartment like a man possessed. I couldn't find my place. From the kitchen to the living room, and so on. Something was gnawing at me. I wanted to talk... But I'd said enough that day.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a glass shattering. It fell right behind me. I turned around, and nothing. There was no trace of glass, or maybe I didn't want there to be. To this day, I can't understand it. Standing in the hallway, I looked at the two candles that provided the only light. A much-needed light. Light heralds a new day, a new routine, a new sadness. Even though all the windows were closed, the candle flames were visibly bending toward each other. As if trying to grow closer, to merge into one. I thought then that light gives life, and at that same moment, one candle went out. I wasn't overly concerned, but I settled comfortably in the armchair. The same one we'd often sat in together, even though it was very narrow.

I wanted to turn on the TV when I saw my reflection on the screen. A young, handsome man. A husband who would soon become a father. Happier than ever. I closed my eyes to see you, and when I opened them, on the screen next to the candle, I saw two children. A boy and a girl. They were maybe four years old. They held each other's innocent hands. They looked like two little angels.

Peace and a sense of security were etched on their faces. An invisible bond bound them. They were eternal; almost no one can break such chains. Only death. Because one needs the other to live, to love.

It's long been known that childhood feelings are inextricable. No one can love like children. They lavish their pure, unblemished love on everyone, because they know nothing of evil. Only in a few years will they be brutally torn from the world of their dreams and hopes. To a place where only death awaits...

That's why everyone who has their own world, where all dreams and hopes intersect, opens its gates only to the chosen few.

The terrifying sound of my cell phone ringing shattered the silence. I didn't even have the strength to search for it. It was still the same melody... The sounds evoked a terrible state in me. I stood between two streams. Each flowed in a different direction. The first one towards the light. I had a strong desire to follow it. The water was warm and begged to be entered.

Despite this, boats floated along the stream. Each one could accommodate an infinite number of people. The same Captain everywhere. Young, beautiful with long hair and an angelic expression. There are people in this world whose appearance is repulsive. Even if they possess this something, we rarely see it through their skin. And not because it's thick skin. Because, in truth, we are blind...

And this Captain, despite being so beautiful, shook everyone's hand. It seemed to me that everyone was talking to him. As he passed by, he held out his hand. I was terrified. There was a hole in his palm. As if someone had pierced it through long ago. I looked into his eyes. They were inviting me in. I'd never seen such a beautiful gaze. I couldn't take a step in any direction. Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. But there was no one behind me. When I looked at the Captain again, he was hugging a girl... She looked remarkably like you. Jealousy gripped me. It irritated me that others could swim alongside the Captain. I couldn't. I took a step back. I felt an icy chill. It was the other stream. It flowed into a silent abyss.

There were no ships, no Captain. Only muffled moans rose from the depths. I didn't want to go in there. I tried to retreat, to leave. To board the ship. Were you there? I hadn't seen you in too long. Suddenly, I felt someone tugging at my arms. I couldn't even resist. Someone was determined to pull me out of this cesspool...

I fell facedown. I lay there between two streams. Without strength, without a chance for a better life. Suddenly, I felt a chill on my hand. It felt like someone was writing on it. I couldn't read the letters. After a moment, however, I heard a child's voice. It whispered in my ear, "We already love you, Daddy." It was like a bucket of cold water in my sleep.

I immediately looked up. I saw the same two little ones as on the TV screen. They were holding hands just like that. And they were walking away very slowly. I got up and started running after them, calling out. Even though they were slowly walking away into the unknown, I didn't get close to them. When I had no strength left to run any further, the girl turned around for a moment.

Her eyes burned with love. Their light illuminated the path that led straight to my heart. A heart that wanted to love only you. Every part of you. Hands, heart, and eyes. I loved the eyes most of all. And the girl looked at me with your eyes. With your love. Love doesn't envy, it keeps no record of wrongdoing; everyone wants it, no one understands.

I wanted to have her with me all the time. To listen to words so simple, so banal, day and night. They were the simplest words in the world. I love you. Every time I heard them from you, my heart started beating faster. The first time, I almost had a heart attack... I can't hear them. What happened? Don't you love me anymore? Maybe you're bored with me? It was nice, next time, please? I'm sorry, it was the voice of loneliness.

The awful sound of the bell that woke us from sleep every Sunday, and this time it did its job. I was lying in the hallway. My head was pounding, as if it were about to explode. There was no one in the apartment. I was lying on the floor. The floor was cold... When we were engaged, you often threatened me with sleeping on the floor. If only people would threaten each other like that. No conflicts, wars, hatred. I never slept on the floor. You always invited me to your place. That certainty, that trust that you would never leave me, that we would be together until death do us part...

All I could hear was the melody from my cell phone. It was as if my hearing receptors hadn't known silence all night. A polyphonic ringtone. It was pleasant to listen to. Once. Now, when I hear this melody, my eyes fill with tears that flow like a rushing stream after a mountain storm. And it rang again. It wouldn't let me rest, so I decided to find it and, most likely, throw it against the wall. I looked at the screen, and there was the message: 'unknown number.' Who could it be? Who had been trying so hard all night? From the first words, I knew something was wrong. "You have become the father of twins, you have a daughter and a son." There was no joy in his voice. The doctor's grave voice sounded like a "good morning" from the devil before hell. A smile appeared involuntarily. We weren't expecting twins. We never had any tests done. Neither of us wanted anything. What will be, will be. "God willing," Grandma used to say. The rest was a testament. The doctor repeated your last words to me. It hovered somewhere in the air. Around me. The knowledge that you would never lift me up again, never hold my hand. As only you could.

I stood in front of the hallway mirror. Cell phone in hand. My mind felt like an atomic bomb had exploded. Emptiness, destruction, death. So distant until now. I wanted to end it. To be where you were. To be where you were forever. I looked in the mirror. An image of misery and despair. A man, destroyed in a matter of moments, with a phone in his hand. Why do words hurt the most? I felt as if someone had pierced my heart with a spear. Terrible pain. And what a hole, a massive one. It would never heal.

He had something in his other hand. What was it? No, that's impossible. No way, not him. After each one, but not after him. A gun. Just put it, shoot, and it's over. He put the gun to his temple. Determined for everything. Even death. I watched in disbelief. He'd done all my work. I was the one who wanted to end it. Why did he even want to take that away from me? I was about to lose my own reflection, too. After all, there's nothing that isn't reflected in the mirror. It would be just me. Alone, alone. No one around. No one would speak to me. Who wants to talk to someone who doesn't have their own reflection? I would become air to people. Only air doesn't leave its reflection on glass. I would lose myself. To live off yourself, you have to give. Those are the words of a song, I think. And what would I give of myself? I wouldn't even have myself.

I looked him straight in the eyes. One thought swirled through my mind. STOP! DON'T DO IT! Suddenly, a man appeared in the background. He grabbed my reflection by the arm and said, "It's time." I'd never seen such a figure in my life. It was both beautiful and terrifying. The cruel voice sounded even more terrifying than the doctor's "good morning." The voice of a demon. I must have been someone, since the devil had sent his man for me.

The captain. I wanted to be in his arms. I felt his hand on my shoulder. How did I know it was him? He had a hole in his palm. I was afraid to look back, so I just touched his hand. I had never felt as safe as I did then.

I looked into my own eyes again. I saw fear, terror, uncertainty. Something completely different from what I felt. He fired. I saw my own fall. My own death. I stood frozen, holding the captain's hand. I couldn't look myself in the eye anymore. They had taken away what was reserved only for me. They had taken away my soul. I gripped the captain even tighter. I saw two children approach my mirrored ego. The same boy and the same girl I'd seen on the TV screen. The reflection fell facedown to the ground. But something strange happened. Something beautiful. I can't put it into words. The children looked at the captain and began to plead with him for help. I didn't hear a word. Yet I knew the power that flowed from children's hearts. From childlike trust. The boy began pounding the dead body with his tiny fists, tears streaming from his eyes. The girl stood nearby. A cry for help rose from her eyes. Without leaving me, the captain took my lifeless reflection in his arms. He wiped the blood from my temple. He kissed my eyes. Suddenly, the apartment door opened. I heard singing, the sounds of a zither, djembes, flutes. The wonderful melody of "Ave Maria." The captain set down my reflection, which still looked dead. And he left. Without saying goodbye. Without unnecessary hugs. Despite this, I no longer felt lonely. From that moment on, I almost forgot about that feeling. I looked at my lifeless reflection. It wasn't dead anymore. I looked like a newborn. And the two little ones were snuggling up to my legs. I looked at my legs and back at the mirror. There was no one there. And the children wouldn't leave me. That's when I broke down. It dawned on me. It was Elka and Krystek.

We have twins. Eligia and Krystian. Eligia means someone who comes from God. Krystian - from christianus, meaning belonging to Christ. Dear children. They don't argue at all. They help each other as much as they can. They are now four years old. Elka looks so much like you. She has your smile. And, of course, her eyes. Krystian is my blood. He even laughs like me. He just painted a card. For Mom. Because today is Mother's Day. A beautiful card. And it says, "Mom, bring me a star from heaven." I don't know where he got that slogan. He's very wise. He knows Mommy is in heaven with the angels. Elka brought something too. Such a beautiful flower. For Mommy. Because Mommy looks down from the stars and smiles at us.

It's late. Tomorrow you have to get up early. Go to preschool. And Daddy has to go to work. Just a pee, a bead, and then off to bed. They sleep together because neither can sleep without the other. They always hold hands. When they sleep, they look like angels. I've never seen such sweet sleeping creatures. I see that part of you in them. It's easier to wake up knowing someone is lying next to you who wants to sleep some more. And you've been sleeping for four years now. And I know you'll always be by our side. Because I gave my whole life to our children. The rest that didn't leave with you but remained within me for them.

Don't read these words with such disbelief. Even though you might think it's not for you. Every thought, after every word, is for you. And writing these words, I've become different. Maybe better...