Crystal & Malachi: Part II
Dear Crystal and Malachi,
Did you know that like Esther, I think of the two of you from time to time? And over the years, it’s as if your names have become sacred. They bring up a strange bitterness, but also remind us of a story that was so sweet. We never really talk about it anymore; it has in a way become a tradition for us to almost always begin into a decrescendo at the mention of your names. Which, by the way, are always spoken together. It’s never just Crystal or just Malachi. It has always been Crystal and Malachi.
They sound right together. Beautiful names that need to be spoken side by side. And when I hear them, I sink back into that night when we all sat on the bench at the bus stop and told love stories to one another.
But that was it. Now we are left here in our original and predictable lives, asking questions only in thoughts. Like how I would always wonder, where are you now? Did you know that when I went to New Orleans, I kept an eye out for the two of you, thinking that perhaps you returned to the beginning of your story?
I think a lot about how you are. Did Malachi take care of you, Crystal, when you were sick? Did he stay by your side and hold your hand to calm the pain?
Or are you even Crystal and Malachi still, or have you become individuals embarking on separate journeys, waiting for another fated day when you run into each other again?
I wonder sometimes what would have happened if we actually had that authentic French cooking session that you kept insisting. Maybe you could’ve shared a few more of your stories. Maybe I would have become an amazing cook.
Instead, I will never get to know you by your cooking or by anything else, only as a pair of travelers. But did you know that I love how you were travelers? How when people inaccurately use any other words to describe you, I impulsively jump out to correct their mishap. Because anything else would have taken away the deeper definition of who you were. It would have caged you up into some corner of the human mind instead of letting you free to wander the lands.
And that was it. You left to follow after the wind and we remained in our original and predictable lives, asking questions mostly in thoughts. And waiting for a day when we can wander on our own.