Archive for June, 2013

Two Flames

Posted in Uncategorized on June 7, 2013 by alisonadventures





We were so close, mirrors of the same soul.

We were faerie’s, dancing through life, tearing through London like the whole city was a giant dance floor, the whole world our stage.

 Our head in the clouds, our hearts united.

 Our hand’s entwined, every day was an adventure. We loved the fashion’s of the Gothic and macabre, steel-boned corsets that sculpted and streamlined our every curve, Lolita styles from Japan, lace and frills making us like breathing dolls, big eyes and carefree spirits.

The camera’s snapping away at us as we danced. We were muse’s, inspiring the world around us. Together we were unstoppable. The world was our oyster, and we were going to live our lives to the extreme. All we wanted was to be together.

We had gremlins, too. The same world that gave us our imagination and creativity also spit in our faces, twisted our souls, ripped off small pieces of our hearts. We were used, abused, hurt. The men who forced themselves upon us, the ones who charmed us into loving them before they hurt us, pushed us away. Our light shined too brightly for them, they were enchanted but terrified, so scared of being burned.

Society tried to label us. We were mad, manic-depressive, selfish, insane. We took the pills and the powders they prescribed, we prescribed. Anything at all to keep the darkness at bay. What no one understood was how hard we tried. We both  just wanted to be happy.

But for us, joy came at a terrible price…for when it came, be it for hours, days, weeks, it seared through us like molten lava, burning us to the core. We were manic, Jokers and Queens, the life of the party. We wrote word after word, ideas coming to us like lightning. We were genius, rulers of the world. Nothing and no one could stop us. But just like a fairy tale, the troll underneath the bridge wanted his gold.

We never could find the magic key, or guess Rumpelstiltskin’s name.

When the darkness found us it was complete. We went into hibernation, locking ourselves off from the world. We were a terrible burden, an unsteady roller-coaster, melancholy and destructive to any and all in our path. We were broken, like a scratched record, a jack-in-the-box that popped out nothing but entrails and blood. So harmful, so fucked up. We would bring the world nothing but pain and misery, or so we thought. Our biggest enemy was ourselves.

And so it went, on and on, the blackness and the light. Until, for you at least, you made it stop.

Some may blame you, call you selfish for what you did, leaving the rest of us behind. While your soul rests in peace, eternally in light, I like to think. It’s where you belong. You tried so hard. We both did, every second of every day. I know this, all to well.

Even across an ocean, our letters continued. You tried to see me, but my family forbade it. I tried to fly back, but the government barred my way. So close we came, so close. All we wanted was to be together.

And now, no matter what I do, say, no matter how hard I cry and how I may scream, shaking and sweating, trembling and screaming, saying your name over and over like a wish, a spell, an incantation, nothing I do or say now can bring you back.

Still, I do not fault you for what you did. I know only to well the trials you endured, the tribulations. You just wanted to be at peace. And while I still want to join you, terribly so, daily I tell myself, death is not the answer. I know you, your last word of “help”…you did not mean to leave us, to leave me. Not really. You just wanted the pain to stop, to go away and leave you in peace…I just hope, that finally, your soul is at rest. I like to believe that you are still here in spirit, guiding us, guiding me.

When I left I loaned you my wardrobe, and for a year I saw you in photos in my dress, my coat. I am so happy now to have given them to you, that they may have provided you with a moments style, warmth, energy. You breathed life into fabric, silk and lace. And even if I never see those items again, just the photos of you wearing them brings me happiness, reminds me of you.

You took me to Heathrow, on that fateful day a year ago now. We were in tears as we said our goodbyes. If only I knew it would be for the last time…if only I knew.

Before I left, you imparted one last gift. A pill holder, with a smaller pill inside, when opened bearing a small, written message: “You are creative, beautiful and smart. Don’t forget about me!” Sophia, how could I ever? I just wish it was as magical as you, if I could bury it and it would grow, like the beans sold to Jack, and a giant beanstalk would sprout from the ground which I could climb, higher and higher, and visit you in heaven.

Every day without you in it is a constant battle, a fight not to let the depression enter completely, stealing my heart, corrupting my soul.

You knew me better than anyone, we were reflections of each other, soul-sisters in a harsh and uncaring world. And now you are gone and I am lost.

Sometime, when you feel like you are free-falling down the rabbit hole, you find things you grab onto, to bring you back into this world. A puppy with chocolate-brown eyes, a man who finally loves you with all his heart, a pill with a secret message inside. Messages pouring in from across an ocean that one day, you will be able to cross. Knowing that in some part of this world you still have friends.

My heart may be heavy in my chest, leaden and breaking, but for you I  live on. As I continue to grieve I know all you would have wanted was for me to be happy. And so  I finally find the courage to write, schedule photo shoots, try and scratch out an income to make my way back to London. You may be gone, but your legacy lives on. And you will never be forgotten.