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Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Fiction #62: Andrew Brobyn


~2014/10/13: Posted by ANOTHERLIFE in General, Love, Journal

I love this girl

I love her. I love her. I love her…
I fell into it—like a daydream, or a fever: like a life, or a life drawn to light…

I love everything about her. I can’t even remember existence before her. I don’t want to. I don’t want to imagine it. I never used to understand how old married couples always seem to die within months of each other. I studied a bit of biology in university so I couldn’t reconcile the reality of those stories with reason. But love—true love—I now know that has no reason; it’s a force, beholden to no higher power than itself. Love is beyond the trivial capacity of human reasoning to understand.

It’s like, you know how geniuses are always described as ‘eccentric’, and a lot of them are thought of as insane in their own lifetimes? It’s not that they’re crazy—they just think beyond the bounds of convention, of which normal people can’t even fathom, let alone cross. And (bear with me here), if God is omnipotent and omniscient, then how mad must Its ways seem to mere mortals? Well, this woman—my girl—she’s divine. And the love that she conjures in me is absolutely psychotic.
There’s no logic in the frantic, frenetic, furious frenzy of it: the passion, the overwhelming intensity of longing when she’s gone, the insane jubilation when she returns…even the willfully assumed pain that I glory in—a masochistic token of our unified soul’s harmony. It’s not just that I feel sympathy when I can tell she’s down; I feel empathy. I don’t even have to know what the source of her sadness is—it doesn’t matter where you start; what matters is where you end up, and how you get there. I can feel everything she feels, because we’re headed to the same place and we’re getting there the same way—together, as one.
            Leave a comment…
         • October 13th, 2014 at 3:45pm, golgothan said:   
lol QWEER. how can u b so disparate about sum bich?!? post a pic of her shes so hot. ill fuk her if ur 2 puss 2 lolol
         • October 13th, 2014 at 8:03pm, rafe said:
Yea, seek not the fool for the fool will present himself in due course. Haha, golgothan, you wouldn’t need a picture of his girlfriend if you could articulate (or have) original thoughts. Maybe then your dating profile wouldn’t be a barren cyber-wasteland. On the other hand, anotherlife, it’s cool that you’re in love and everything…just don’t go crazy over it. Congratulations and all; but, never think that anyone’s perfect.
         • October 14th, 2014 at 1:22am, psyche said:
Hey anotherlife, she sounds like quite a girl!! And I love the way you write. I feel like I’m right there with you… I wish I were as lucky as you in that respect…*sigh* Also, golgothan, I hope you have a box of tissues handy for your nightly emissions of loneliness…aka tears. Lmao!
          • October 14th, 2014 at 10:58am, anotherlife
Ahahaha. Wow, harsh… Well done though. And thank you. I’m sure you’ll find someone. The world has a way of working out, if you work with it    =)
          • October 14th, 2014 at 11:21am, psyche said:
 ;) Well put, sir.
~2014/10/15: Posted by ANOTHERLIFE in General, Love, Journal

Lessons in love language

I love her in every way it’s possible to love someone. A while ago, I read the Ancient Greek’s definitions of the types of love. And they’re all there…

Philia: She’s my best friend. I really believe that I could talk to her forever and never be bored (even if we weren’t together!) She doesn’t have to speak; just seeing her brings me comfort. She likes the same books that I do; she likes the same movies; she even shares my taste in breakfast cereal! This is crazy!

Storge: I saw her for the first time not even a month ago but I feel like she’s been there my whole life. I’ve always loved her. I just didn’t know she existed… The past few weeks have been amazing! I don’t even get irritated when she stays up late with the music on, or when her alarm wakes me up in the morning…they’re all just reminders that she’s here—that she’s not just a dream. Sometimes, I don’t even think of her as the opposite sex—as in, just another person I could satisfy my bodily and psychological needs with—I think of her as someone I can be a child with (sorry if that’s strange). The twin I never had. Someone to share innocent joys with: someone to grow up with, that I’ll always share more than just a past with.

Eros: She is my muse and my entire mind. She owns me. I want her to use me as she sees fit, to whatever ends she needs met.

Agape: She is my own, personal God. She permeates everything in this little world of mine and infuses it all with ineffable beauty: beyond just physical beauty, or the beauty of knowing something is true and good and right; she is beauty without borders. Infinite. I would do anything for her, even if I could only ever love her from afar in order to preserve her happiness. I know she deserves better than me. What she deserves is impossible though; only once could the universe, or even a multiverse of eternal recurrence, create something so miraculously perfect—she’s the only being that deserves to be with her. She’s too good for the base qualities and desires of anyone else. But, somehow, she’s here—in my life. I simply can’t express how much I love her. I just love her. That’s it.

Thanks for reading! Sorry if I’m kind of gushing…
Leave a comment…
        • October 15th, 2014 at 2:24pm, psyche said:
Don’t apologize at all! That was sooo sweet! If people don’t want to be reading about this, they don’t have to. I do want to read about this, so keep writing =) Even if I become your only follower, lol.   
        • October 15th, 2014 at 2:26pm, rafe said:
Those are some pretty intense feelings to have for anyone, let alone a girl you’ve only known for a month. Be careful. Don’t let your heart beat louder than your head speaks.
~2014/10/15: Posted by ANOTHERLIFE in General, Love, Journal, Poetry
Because I’m a cheeseball

So, right after I wrote that last post, I went out on my balcony to savour the waning summer. The weather’s glorious today; the sun is incredibly fierce (even through the quickly chilling breeze) and its brilliance conquers and consumes the sky. Even the windows of my complex are too bright to look at directly.
I was a bit dazed, and shading my eyes, when a thin, cream-coloured veil of clouds drifted with predestined determination, perfectly into place. I didn’t have to shift my focus at all: one second my vision was full of reflected sunlight from the sliding door, the next it was full of something far more powerful, more vital to life, and absolutely all encompassing. The sun may sear spots in your sight if you stare but my girl will be branded into your very being with one instantaneous flare. And I can’t turn my gaze elsewhere.

She was asleep, the sheets pleated by a Godsend of happenstance to caress and cascade across her body, like the life-giving swells of the sea. Watching her eyelids flicker open and blink, slowly, like they were breathing the beauty of this transcendent, immediate moment; that was exhilarating. There was a thick, warm glow all around her, sweet to my sight—she’s like a queen bee, bathed in honey that could quench a King Midas hunger. I’m enamoured by her every gesture. Even the way her laugh lines crinkle as she rolls out of bed and checks her phone is worthy only of description as Art. I wish I could paint, purely to paint her. But if I tried it’d probably end up looking more like golgothan than Gaia… (HA!) All I’ve really got to work with are words, so I’ll try to paint a portrait of this precise point in time with those (and sorry if it’s not amazing—I just needed to do this: no person, living or lost, could possibly do justice in capturing Paradise).
        Fluid as stained
        glass         flakes
                feeding a flame—

            a dreamer awakes
            as art flees
from its frame;

            a painter awaits
            as a dream
                plays its games;
            though the painter, with patience, renders
tamed.     He is bold as he moulds her,
                        she is told to behave;
                        but she lets him control her,
                        in servitude craved.

    Who is slave, and who master? Are both masterless slaves?

        He bleeds with each brushstroke,
        yet engraves her
with his name—

    but this peace, this is priceless, this is not sold:         it is saved.

            Behold, She is wholly
        otherworldly             and lonely, a halo
                        held closely,
                    the sheen of which shows me

                    there is in-
deed Heaven
in life        if you look:
        it is living itself,
            it knows its time
                is afoot.
Leave a comment…
         • October 15th, 2014 at 2:31pm, rafe said:
Hey man, nice work. Does it have a title? I don’t really get all of the spacing choices but I’m guessing this is a first draft? Some of the rhythm seems a bit off… Awesome building blocks though!
        • October 15th, 2014 at 2:34pm, anotherlife said:
Thanks. Yeah, it’s definitely not what I’d call ‘done’, or even ready to be abandoned yet. I want to make it absolutely perfect before I muster the courage to show it to her. This would be embarrassing in its current state. =p
        • October 15th, 2014 at 2:31pm, psyche said:
 Whoa. That was gorgeous… I’m speechless. Amazing =D
        • October 15th, 2014 at 2:36pm, anotherlife said:
Thanks again! I’m glad someone liked it. I don’t know if it’ll ever reach its intended audience though…
        • October 17th, 2014 at 9:49pm, psyche said:
Well, even if it doesn’t, it made me incredibly happy—and sad, but in a happy kind of way, if that makes sense… Thank you =) PS. Hope you’re alright!!
∫ 2014/10/15: PSYCHE sent a message to ANOTHERLIFE

Hiya =)
Hey!! Sorry if this is kind of weird but I wanted to tell you that I am really LOVING reading your blog. You seem like a really cool person and, well, I just felt like I should say ‘hi’ and let you know that you’re appreciated. Soooo…hi!! Lol =P
~2014/10/21: Posted by ANOTHERLIFE in General, Love, Journal

No rest for the wicked
Sorry I haven’t posted anything in a while. I haven’t seen much of my girl lately, and she is my muse. I don’t feel like I can write without her to inspire me. Whenever she’s been home in the last few days, she has people over—but she still seems morose and distant; or, if she’s alone, she just goes straight to bed. I’m kind of worried about her but I don’t know what to do…help?
Leave a comment…
        • October 21st, 2014 at 5:12am, psyche said:
I’m sorry to hear that =( Maybe she needs space? Have you talked to her about it? I’d like to help if I can!!! =)
∫ 2014/10/21: ANOTHERLIFE sent a message to PSYCHE

Re: Hiya =)
Hey psyche, I apologize for taking so long to get back to you. Thanks for liking my stuff…I just don’t really feel like writing much right now though. And I haven’t spoken to her about it; I can’t bring myself to. I don’t have anyone that I can speak to about this either. Nobody knows her. Nobody knows me. Thanks for offering help but I don’t know what you could do. Sorry again…
∫ 2014/10/21: PSYCHE sent a message to ANOTHERLIFE

Re: Hiya =)
No worries about the delay! I completely understand!! And I’m really, really sorry that you don’t feel like writing…I adore your posts, they make me believe in love… Seriously, if there’s anything I can do to help? You could talk to me maybe? I know how it is to feel alone…I moved to the city recently and don’t really have anyone. I could talk to her?? What’s her email? Feel better!! =)
~2014/10/31: Posted by ANOTHERLIFE in General, Love, Journal

The end…

I came home a bit early from work tonight, just in time to regret it. I was in the courtyard and I looked up to see if she still had the lights on. She was on the balcony having a cigarette, the smoke from her lips mixing with vapour from her lungs as it hit the ghostly-cold air around us, diffusing into the vacuum of the dry, dying night. The moon hung on her head like a crown, its sterling ray threads seeping down through her gown, around shoulders and hips, creating a silhouette of a spirit I would dare not wish to kiss—for fear she would, like the smoke, simply merge with the mist and be gone... She was so terrifyingly beautiful.
Then I saw a shadow behind her. The heart she’d stolen from me ceased beating, frozen in light of that phantom betrayed by moonbeam.
I couldn’t go upstairs. I waited in the courtyard for an hour before I saw him come out the door. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to torture him. I wanted him to know who I was. I wanted him to watch my eyes as I watched his try to stretch out the last horror filled moment of his miserable fucking life. I wanted to use him as practice.
But I couldn’t…
I’m sitting outside the lobby now. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I will do. I have to do something. I wish that had been me on the balcony with her, holding her. She’s so small. I could lift her effortlessly. We could spend eternity together, entwined in an embrace with no borders…

 We would land right where I’m sitting.
                Leave a comment…
        • October 31st, 2014 at 4:08am, psyche said:
HEY! Please, please email me before you do anything. Is she there with you now?? Please tell me you haven’t done anything…
        • October 31st, 2014 at 4:23am, psyche said:
Why aren’t you answering my emails?? Come on! Talk to me, please!! This is really important!!!!!
        • November 5th, 2014 at 5:42pm, rafe said:
Dude. I hope you’re ok… That can be pretty rough, I know. Move on though, man. Plenty of fish to fry out there. She’s not worth the worry. Don’t beat yourself up. Don’t beat her up either... I’m looking forward to reading some more stuff soon! Cheer up!
 ∫ 2014/10/31: PSYCHE sent a message to ANOTHERLIFE
Re: Hey =)
Hey, I know this is weird and awkward and fucked up and everything…I have no right to be interfering in your life…but PLEASE don’t do anything you’ll regret. You’re a great guy!! There are plenty of girls out there that would love someone like you. Don’t do something stupid just because of an immature girl who doesn’t know what she’s got right in front of her!!! Here, this is my number, text me as soon as you get this… 121-5225 I’m Chris…

∫ 2014/10/31: PSYCHE sent a message to ANOTHERLIFE

Re: Hey =)
I need to know that you’re not going to do anything. I can help you!! Please just talk to me...
§ 4:22am MSG RECEIVED: 913-4514
Chris, it’s anotherlife, thanks for caring but I really don’t want to talk. I’m going to do this. Please don’t try to dissuade me. She’s already done the worst she could to me, and now it’s my turn.
§ 4:23am MSG RECEIVED: 121-
You’re actually doing this? Are you fucking insane?!? Is she there with you? Just leave. Go for a walk. Clear your head!!
§ 4:25am MSG RECEIVED: 121-5225
Hello?!?! Where are you? What are you doing??
§ 4:26am MSG RECEIVED: 913-4514
I have to. There’s a thin line between love and hate, like life and death, or Heaven and Hell. They’re different ends of a current, or just two sides of a magnet. You can’t have one without the other. They’re the same thing…it’s all just a matter of perspective. I’m going to make her see from a new
§ 4:26am MSG RECEIVED: 913-4514
She was my muse, she moved my heart and my hands to create—but creation is a kind of destruction. She just inspired a new act of creation: my last and most lasting. Now she’s more than a muse…she’s my canvas.
§ 4:26am MSG RECEIVED: 121-5225
Where are you? I can come see you. I need to see you. I need to be with you and keep you safe: from her and yourself. It doesn’t have to end like this!!!! You can change your mind. I can change your mind…
§ 4:29am MSG RECEIVED: 913-4514
It’s too late. There’s no stopping fate. I’m going to do this. I’m so sorry but there’s no other option… It’ll be over soon—everything. She’s still awake. I feel so alive in this manic nightmare. I need to share it with her. I need her to experience this moment with me, this orgasm of comedic tragedy. Our lives will become our life, for one final forever.
§ 4:29am MSG RECEIVED: 121-5225
Wait!!!!! Please, God, wait!!! Tell me where I can find you. I’m coming right now!!!! Hold on, please.
§ 4:30am MSG RECEIVED: 913-4514
I’m sorry. I can’t. I can hear her through her door… It’s our time. Goodbye Chris.


Andrew Brobyn is a Toronto based writer of poetry, fiction, criticism, and essays. He studied philosophy and natural sciences at the University of Guelph, then Creative Book Publishing at Humber College. Andrew is awaiting the cinematic release of his first feature-length screenplay, forthcoming in 2016, while studying for his LSATs, and, hopefully, law school.

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