The Caramel Divide

(as published in both/and, 2013)

The light coming through my window is that of a dull streetlight, and I realize I’ve forgotten to close my curtains. Soft darkness and the pulsing vibes of muted snoring swallow the rest of the room. Except for me, of course—I am encased in light. I am positively glowing.

He loves me.

Curious tendrils of caramel and chocolate radiate from his sleeping form. His love for me is warm, and welcoming, and home. His love is melting and breathing and pouring into the darkness, finding its way to me and shining bright. He asked me for nothing and gave me his love without the slightest demand or expectation.

The mocha swirls surround me. I can almost taste the cocoa, the sugar, the savory sweet. He loves like a child, with no thought of repercussion, and the innocence is breathtaking.

The clock is not moving. The traffic is silent. I am here, and he is here, and this is now. The scent of toffee lingers on my tongue, the russet fragrance of broken love screaming out for one last chance. A chance only I can give.

There is nothing but this.

Love is all I see, I feel, I touch. The caramel trembles at my fingertips and begs to be addressed. Reality is lost in whirls of chocolate. I do nothing to stop it. I want to be swathed in this hurricane; I cannot think, cannot blink, cannot breathe without its saccharine air in my lungs. I need this.

I wonder if this is how dying feels. Slipping away from the world, trapped in a moment that can neither live nor die. This span of seconds, it will end before I wish it to, and then it will last forever.

My eyes wander to his face and see that he, too, is watching me. He has awoken and joined me in this place, this moment, this time. He feels it. I feel it.

His cerulean stare sets the chocolate on fire. We are burning, he and I, without a single word or touch. I make no move to escape the vortex of coffee and butterscotch. My entire life has been wasted in a world that never knew such perfection.

In the days to come, when this is remembered, it will only be a horrible sketch of what I saw. I will never again be in this place, this moment, this time.

Unwillingly, reluctantly, I fall asleep.