Oh Harlequin, Oh Harlequin! (Part Two)

So he left, gone. Out of my life like everything else. How could he just… I swung my arm out in frustration, only to hit the little glass Japanese flowered lamp. It shattered into billions and billions of stars on my floor, beautifully and painfully spread out for me.

I never thought I would miss the harlequin. He came so quickly, as quick as the winds, as bright as my dreams, as soft as my bed sheets. The trickster should mean absolutely nothing but he has left a stain. A stain of blush, as red as his diamond covered costume, on my cheeks.

And then I felt it. One single solitary tear, trailed down my cheek, to my nose and then… plop. Right on my little finger. I didn’t want to get rid of it, not yet. I almost spoke to it. The tear seemed to be the only other thing with… a certain amount of life in sudden isolation.

“Oh Harlequin! Harlequin it is not Saint Valentines anymore! You need no columbine!” I cried, aloud to no one save my tear. I flung the water from me and I fell back on my bed. The cool sheets took me in their arms but there was no love in those arms. There was only emptiness in that bed. There always has been emptiness. I had never taken anyone, or considered taking anyone to that bed, save of course my dreams.

Perhaps all he was, was a dream indeed. I am to young, too unwomanly, to be a harlequin’s columbine. I let the tears fall then as I did the glass. The tears did not glitter or shine for me. They shown for no one.

I begged Lord Of Dreams to calm me, because I told myself I loved him and him alone, and not some sudden clown. The walls began to melt and the glass on the floor turned into oceans and the sheets became a forest and I was thrown into a dream once more.