Angelina Almanza
Irene Marques
ENG 505
October 25, 2021
There was a sort of empty hunger gnawing away at them.
It was a craving for the only thing that could fulfill it - a longing for the only thing that could make them whole. A siren song so compelling, even the deaf would risk everything to fall so desperately into its grasp.
Like any good craving though, the specifics – the actual what is – seemed to escape them. The ghost of a feeling, both the texture and emotions associated with it were somewhat there, and yet the name of it was out of reach. Which meant it, the thing they hungered after, was just out of reach.
And it was driving them mad.
Spider web paths were their only lead. They were long and hard to see, tricking them with false identities that would never truly cure the ache, and never breaking when they tried to cut free. Maybe, if they dove into each and every thread, they would be able to find it. Maybe, if they crawled through each and every possibility, one of the threads would glow and they would finally see the answer. Maybe then they would finally be able to satiate the famine raging away inside.
Maybe it would be before their ruined self would crumble.
It was definitely something warm – though not quite like cinnamon or vanilla. It didn’t seep through the soul in the same way. More like a brown sugar syrup, viscous and gooey. Slow to spread along the tongue, but dissolved before it could be fully savoured. Melted away before it could truly envelop the senses, yet it left them with the memory of a smoky taste in the back of their maw; spurring them even deeper into the madness left behind.
They knew it wasn’t quite an emotion, though the emotions that it did spur made it all the more addicting. Not fully a giddiness that made them soar, nor a melancholy so deep they could drown. Only partially a passion so hot it could burn through all, and not quite a full-on possessive obsession that led to drastic action. So perhaps it was an experience? An instance?
Was it afternoon naps in the warm sun? Where the carpeted floor was more welcoming than a bed; and the rumbles of a slumbering cat the best lullaby? No, not quite. Too much lavender, and much more of a deep earl gray. It wasn’t quite as bittersweet as what they needed.
Perhaps then, it was the cool kisses of the first snowfall. The crisp hug of a mischievous snow spirit, the feeling of him stealing the heat from their fingers or nibbling lovingly on their ears and nose –
Oh. Actually.
It was the first time in the basement of a friend’s house. Sneaking away from siblings to share an embrace so warm it nearly melted them into a puddle of mush. It was the feeling of giving to those they hold near, of sharing the three words we hold dear. It was the turning of stomachs, the nauseous flutter of butterflies, the ephemeral high –
It was love.
A longing to be loved.
A craving for affection.
A hunger to be held and told that it would be alright.
They take a moment to stew in the answer. A moment to drink the elixir that was supposed to satisfy the emptiness – a moment, to let the famine suckle on what promised to be its end.
Of course it was love. Love in all its recklessness, love in all its glory. Love in all its history, love in all its story-
It truly was like brown sugar syrup, disgustingly sweet and gooey. A honey trap, drawing in those who craved it and promising a sweet reward. One that would change their lives forever.
One that could promise demise.
And yet, a small forgotten part of them mused, and yet one that could promise them that which they longed for. The warmth they told themselves they were never deserving of. The safety from the judgmental world. The support to stand up to the prying eyes. The roots to ground them against the tsunami of criticism.
But they couldn’t. They couldn’t give in to the craving or the famine or the hunger. They couldn’t give in to the hope because they knew.
They knew it would hurt even more when it was ripped away from them.
Just like it always had been.
And just like it always would be.
As long as that person had a say in it.
