This morning I decided that I would try to talk to her about the stories she had told me and more importantly the girls that were the main characters of those stories. I thought I’d try a subtler approach and only asking for information so she doesn’t start doubting anything about my investigation. Well I wasn’t really expecting anything but I had least had to try, I wanted to know if those stories had some kind of link together since they shared similarities and if it had a link with the beginning of stories she wrote about those girls who would always die in the story, but it would still go on, leaving it unfinished. It was almost like if once the character died, she found a way to keep making her talk even if she was dead, it felt like if her soul got detached from her dying body and left a few words before leaving this world. I think I could understand now why she would never finish her written stories, it’s relatively easy for people to imagine scenes that take place during life since everyone lives but even for the author, it can be be pretty complicated to find a way to imagine how things would look like after death when you don’t have a physical body anymore. Even if the theory of wandering souls after death is right, you don’t have any eyes to see or hands to touch, how do you actually confirm your own existence?
My opinion is that she couldn’t find the imagination she needed to complete this part of the story since she doesn’t have any memories of it, again even if the theory was right, it also said that you lost every memory you had about your past life so you can start a brand new one, that would possibly suggest that the memories are stored in the body that dies. She might have found it hard to describe the way how her main character would just wander around waiting for a new body to accept this soul. What would a soul do? It can’t look after his past friends or family since it doesn’t remember anything, it doesn’t even know why it’s there, I’m not implying that we living humans know why we’re here but that’s a whole different story that I don’t want to induce in yet. I guess she could just skip that part until it finds a new body but what would be the point? I don’t think she can’t skip this part or else it would only be two different stories and that wouldn’t make any sense, I’d rather start writing another story, but again that might be exactly what she did.
I entered the room and found her sitting in the bed, watching silently through the window again, there was a light rain coming down from the clouds, creating tiny rivers streaming down the window, deforming the shapes that we could still barely discern through the dirty and scratched glass. It was a bit of a sad portrayal of her on this winter day, it looked like her life left her body but she still had twice the amount of life I had, literally. I sat down next to her and she looked back at me, smiling like a sunshine in this bad weather, my heart felt warm for a moment and I wanted to take her in my arms to feel more of her warmth. That’s what I did, but she didn’t feel warm at all, rather, her body was quite cold and her hands were frozen too, I took the nearest blanket and placed it around her shoulders, she looked happy but she didn’t say anything. She took out one arm and proposed to share the blanket with her so I went closer and entered the haven. She also drew herself closer and rested her head against my shoulder, that felt great. I didn’t want to unsettle her right now but I still wanted to ask her about ‘that’, I tried a relaxed approach.
“So, while I was tidying up the house a bit, I might or might not have found and read some of the stories you wrote but never finished… those you didn’t want me to read” I started, waiting for her reaction before attempting any questions on the topic. She looked at me, intrigued. Shortly after she would giggle and weakly waving her hand.
“Haha I knew you would stand the pressure of your curiosity and actually sneak up and read them anyways. But why are you making such a long face, were you expecting me to be angry at you? I didn’t want you to read them because I thought they were boring and that you shouldn’t waste your time on reading them… that is all.” she said to me. As I told myself earlier, I didn’t expect anything from this so it was already something good. I gave her my best smile while thinking on how I would bring up my next point, I just threw on the table that I read her stuff, I couldn’t just end up the conversation now like I was only confessing my sins, it would only mean that I really thought that she would be angry at me and I’m not sure that she would like to have that kind of feeling.
“Well, yeah I’ve read some of them and I noticed that most of them followed pretty much the same theme, the heroine would die a bit before the end of the story and then it would stagnate and that’s about where you finished usually. They felt a bit similar to the stories that you’ve told me earlier, except that they would actually have an ending because the story actually ended when the character died. I sort of figured that you were the author of the stories that you’ve told me, but why were you trying this time to go further after the character died?” I asked in a really long sentence, hoping to not forget to mention anything without mentioning something that I wasn’t supposed to.
“You’re right, I’m the person who invented those stories.” she looked down a bit, like if she was defeated or something, she looked back at me. “For the written ones, I don’t… really know the reason was I was trying to keep on writing the story even though the character died. I might have drawn too close to the character so I wouldn’t want her to just disappear like this, even though I knew she’d die in the story. It might be because I also want my story to continue after I die, but I don’t know how that works so I couldn’t really write about it.” she explained. She looked quite sad now, like if I woke up a broken dream from her subconsciousness, I felt bad for her but I still needed a confirmation on her part, she revealed something that suddenly became crucial from my investigation.
“Yes, I think I somehow totally understand that feeling, I’m sorry to bring it up now.” I said, while watching at the now pouring rain outside. I hesitated a bit but then finally asked her. “So you said you invented every story that you told me? That’s pretty impressive, I liked them all, I think you’re a great story-teller! I believe that my favorite was the one with the sister that became a writer, I’m not certain why though.” I said with every bit of delicacy I could find. I think that worked pretty well since she sketched a smile, I guessed she also liked to be praised a little bit.
“Thank you, those words means a lot for me. Yes they all come from my imagination, I think I even invented one why I was telling it!” she laughed a bit, probably remembering good memories. She continued to talk a bit but I already had the answer I wanted, my vision was starting to get blurry as I made relations with fact I knew in my head. It wasn’t really complicated, it all came down to the fact that she invented the story of a girl that already existed and the same girl wrote the same novel as the one in her story. Until we get further, it seems pretty possible that she just heard vaguely about the girl and her book someday and after a while she thought of a story that would fit her background. That was very plausible and if you’d ask me that would probably be my first guess. The only thing that annoyed me a little bit, making me ambivalent about this conclusion is probably the fact that we were currently living in her residence and that even some of her texts were hidden behind glued bookshelves. I’m well aware that this might just be a big coincidence, that’s why I’m not jumping to conclusions right now and investigating on the topic before reaching something reasonable. Of course she could have just lied to me and never have invented those stories, but I trusted her right now.
I guess I would have to take a moment of cogitation to sort this out myself, I could also try to learn more about that Palsye and the girl that committed a dream-suicide. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they also really existed before and they had a sort of relationship between them. But again, I could be completely wrong too. I decided to talk about another topic since I was with her but my head was so full of probabilities and theories that I couldn’t think straight, I took a good look at her and then, combing her soft hair with my hand and pointing her belly with the other I spoke.
“So, how is it going down there, is it coming any soon?” I asked with a light humoristic tone. I didn’t really bother counting the days bit I knew that such a job took about nine months, and that made approximately nine months too. I didn’t really realize up to now that I would become a father quite soon, I still wondered if I was ready for it. Was she herself ready for it? I guess those are questions you can’t really answer until you’ve actually lived the thing. I’m not certain that you can say that you are ready for something you’ve never experienced before but I guess it was possible to say that you are totally not ready for it. Since I was wondering if I was ready or not, that would probably mean that I was at least a bit ready for it, but how did she felt about it? She was the one who proposed it after all right? She should be knowing what she’s doing, well that’s at least what I believed.
“Yes I think it’s going to be coming soon enough, are you excited about this? I must admit that I am, but I’m also a bit nervous too!” she said, with an obvious tone of excitation. It was probably one of her dreams that was becoming true and I was kind of proud to be part of it. There was one thing that was actually bothering me too, I remembered about her heart’s condition, about how small it still was and how problematic this was. Giving birth to a child was probably really physically demanding and I wondered if she could manage it. She said that her heart stopped growing when she was ‘pretty young’ but I’ve never really heard about ‘pretty young’ girls giving birth to a child so I couldn’t compare. To add another weight on the top of that, she was really weakened during the last month so her heart might as well not be functioning as good as a ‘pretty young’ girl’s heart would.
As if she read through my worries, she smiled at me, like if she was trying to reassure me saying that everything will be alright. That somehow really felt like a balm on my wounded mind right now, I felt like all the problems of the world just became so tiny that it was pretty relevant to ignore them right now.
“I like it when you smile but I love it when I’m the reason” I told her, that made her happy and also made me happy by the same occasion, it was a bit like diving by zero and finding the answer.
I really wished I spent more time like this with her, but now it might as well be too late for that.