We’re in a toxic relationship, she and I. It’s been like that since the beginning. I should be used to it at this point.

We’re entangled in sharp wires, but she’s a tower of steel. The Magic City. I’m built of flesh, soft and pink. The circumstances definitely favor one over the other.

Our friendship is built on patience. Words are exchanged. Promises. She takes long to respond.

Every second adds heaviness to the wind. Minutes drag across my back, like bricks. And in days the air thickens and my lungs are stuffed with glass dust. But she does reply, always, albeit late. And every time I break down in tears of joy. Scalding water streaks down my face. She smiles at last and I am pleased.

It is a smile that tastes of metal and blood. She’s known defeat and she relishes in my frustration. She won’t let me fail, for it is she who mentors me, and that would add a new failure to her history. But she will amuse herself in my impatience. My anger. My undivided devotion to her, despite her mediocrity. She’s known defeat, but not loyalty. It confuses her. It’s beyond her wisdom. Perhaps she’ll learn about it some day.

I wouldn’t like to be weak. She tests my strength. She drives me to the limit. Drives me mad.

She throws a telescope at my lap and forces me to look across the ocean, to the land I’ve left behind. In my ear she whispers, cool and grinning: “Look at that. Perhaps you’ll go for a swim one day. A long swim. You will be so weary when you lay on the sand that you won’t ever want to swim back to me. How do you like that?”

I don’t. My sight whitens just by visualizing it. Her eyes are iris-less. She’s known blindness. She’s been blinded to morality. To modesty. To reality. She understands. And she won’t let me be the way she was. She wants me to be strong. To be angry.

“Perhaps you swim one day soon. Or perhaps you won’t. It’s up for me to decide. What are you going to do about it? Mm. What will you do?”

I dislike being powerless. I dislike the feeling of being on the ocean, lain down, with the current pulling you on different directions. East or West. America or Europe. I want to swim back to her. But when one is out there, upon that big blue blanket, swaying, what can be done?

“I am the Magic City. The Town of Steel. I can take you between my fingers and I can close them around you. I can deafen you by just calling your name.

I’m small amongst my fellow cities, but I’m big next to you.”

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THANK YOU FOR READING!

If you can’t tell, I’m not feeling very good as of recently. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get better. The Town of Steel does bend. She just has a cruel sense of humor.

And I’m sure everything will be alright in the end. But, until then, I’m here, feeling down.

At least December has finally arrived. Christmas is on the way. And, afterwards, the birth of a new year with new possibilities. And 2020 can finally kick the bucket and leave us forever. Hopefully things will be better, then. But, again, until then, let us finish this as best as we can.

Have a great day. Mine isn’t going too well as of yet, but maybe I’m pleasantly surprised in the most unexpected moment. Who knows? I certainly don’t.

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Copyright © Blanca Parga 2020

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