Desolated heart and its firm barricade

By Gabriel D’Astous

Slowly wandering the area he had grown accustomed to, a glimpse of distress
trespassed through the sheer presence of the incomprehensible emotional harbour he
carried. Empty of all it could offer, the ruin deflected a tragic scent, one able to tear
even the strongest souls, from its stench of burnt furniture to unidentified
decomposition. Strolling painfully to the nearest sight of housing, he yearned guidance,
for his right leg was heavily wounded, prolonging a scarlet trail amidst the moderately
grey scaled location. He could not reminisce on the implications his injured self partook,
so did he not foresee the altered existence he had seemingly entered. He wondered as
he, yesterday, was enjoying his time in the city he cherished, which now furnished
desolation. In an attempt of recovering his presence of mind, he seized peace, but in
vain it was.

As he made his way to one of the house’s doors, a swift wind obliterated him off his
footings. As if repelled by an unknown force protecting the remains of the house, he laid
there on the ground, alongside his aggravating wound. Despite its outlandishness, he
did not question the issue, he took it for granted. Never questioning. Intruding his
mind, memories of past mishaps serenaded the meaning he sought. Mistakes which had
concluded in turns of events, he regretted passionately. The truth may hurt, but
dishonesty appeared more harmful.

Down as he was, he lacked the required motive to undertake another search for
answers. He was aware of the advantages of fulfilling his self-approval, by never holding
a façade displaying someone he never was, someone who could bring benefit to people
he cared for. Realizing this now, enlightened him, bringing him a new meaning to grasp
as it was not too late.

What if I could just make it right this time around, he wondered as the rising sun
shone down in his direction.

Holding on the staircase railings, he vigorously sprang himself up, attempting to

advance without infringing any pressure on his leg. He felt relieved once back on his
feet, for he could only wonder how to get out of this mess. As he accidentally bumped
his wounded leg on a broken part of the stairs, he writhed in agony, leading to the
closing of his eyes for a second.

As his sight came back a few seconds after initially having slumbered, he realized a
change of setting. Completely rewritten, no desolated buildings could be observed, nor
a single source of possible life. As if he had been exiled to a completely different
environment, he could not bat an eye on the deserted land he had stumbled upon.

Touching his right leg, his wound was nowhere to be seen, raising many questions.
But still, he could not question it. As if something he had previously done posed
impossibility in making light of the issues, he walked towards who knows what, noticing
his deafened hearing could apparently not translate the surrounding noises. Complete
silence, as empty as where he was heading. He did not know either where his itinerant
self contemplated going, but as he followed his heart, a new landscape formed.
Listening to his heart had been the key to his stray, for he hid his truest sentiments
unheard, and altered.

The desolation was the first sight of his unrecognized feelings, as he had eradicated
anything of foe to his true nature. A city of solitude and infrangible buried treasures
illustrated his initial state of heart. As a new plane of possible existence came to his
discernment, he saw a totally new light through the darkness. Sounds now resurfaced,
but not in entirely yet, for he was still in denial. Approaching the conspicuous
separation, preceding a livelier version of the previous city, he heard a voice amidst his
discreet roam and the, nevertheless, silent surrounds.
 “Why are you going there, now?” a nostalgic, yet unclear voice proclaimed to the
poor man as he almost reached the destination ahead.

He answered with utmost honesty to the muffled voice, to whom a physical

appearance did not seem to coexist. The man’s response demonstrated a will to self-
growth, to the unknown figure. As he then proceeded to land his feet on the new area,
bundled with beautiful greenery and modernity, another statement he heard.

“Glad you finally chose the right path for yourself…” the voice said in a sad, yet
rejoiced tone.

His heart, which had gone through a phase of ignoring everything and anyone, was of
a deserted plane. Nothing to be added, yet nothing to be found. It had been a coping
mechanism, for he had not pursued acceptance of his. Though one voice could enter the
emptiness, the one which belonged to his loved one. For so long had this voice tried to
support the man through his problems, and life goals. As he finally traversed the
lonesome wasteland, the voice had been contemplating from afar for a while now, but
always unable to comprehend the man's feelings and goals. He had now finally set foot
out of this status, advancing towards a merrier reality.

In front of him rose beautiful buildings, to which lights covered the scenery in a
mesmerizing display of overlapping colors. It was for sure the opposite of what he had
seen before, for its liveliness proposed success. Noisy as it was, the man felt pleased, as
he thought he might be able to wake up from this apparent dream. Finally was he
delivered from the claws of unknown fears, so he thought. As he stood there, in awe, he
marched forward without a single suspicion in his mind. The moment he progressed
through the marvelous city, he felt his body tense up. From the sheer pressure his
advancements had procured him, he felt as if his body was about to collapse. Backing
down, before it was too late, his body refrained from momentarily breaking on itself.
Too strong was it, even though not being afflicted anymore, he could not stand on his
feet, as his stomach let out an unexpected generous amount of bile. He was not yet out
of it, as it seemed. As the lighting seemed to have started diming, a strong shadow was
cast on the man, leading him to raising his eyesight upwards. He saw the upside-down
city, slowly coming closer to the one he had been on. It felt maddening, and the
pressure came back.

It reminded him of the first iteration, where his heart could not reach locked away
longings. He did not know for sure what it was this time, but he noticed it might have
something to do with incompatibility.

In order to access to his true feelings, he had to speak it out, for his façade lacked
affinity with who he truly was. Unable to follow him now, the voice could only wait for
the end of his journey, as it directly opposed him. A journey he had to finally partake if
he wanted to one day be able for his goals to be accomplished. Whether it was too late
for his heart to be heard in its full extent, he still could reach them, and himself for a
matter of fact. But the path to such confidence and resilience had yet to show its trump
card.

From fear, he attempted to leave this new location, which showed intent of crushing
his heart to death. Right in between the two aforementioned contrasting areas, the
voice could finally get a grasp of him. It asked if he was fine, if there was something
wrong, if he had to talk. Such logical questioning would come of someone seeing a poor
soul such as him, relentlessly trying to make his way out of dreed, yet having to
surrender to its menace. But the man did not answer. He stayed silent, as his own voice
could no longer produce sounds. He tried to make himself heard, validated. But he
couldn’t. Maybe had it been the severe pressure he indulged in earlier to blame, but
one thing for sure was that no matter how hard he tried, his heart could not bear that
much stress. The unsettling feeling of unconditional panic aggravated by the second, as
the voice he tried to converse with longed for answers. The trembling environment
around him started to fall apart, as darkness started breaking through the existential
cracks terraforming around him. Sinister looking hands rose from those breaches,
making their way to the man’s body, whom stood there petrified. The repeated
questions from the far away voice started fading out, as the man sank in a pool of black
mater, which the sinister limbs had forcefully thrusted him in.

The man dissipated, alongside the heart he profoundly toured in attempt of finally
unlocking what had been locked before. Now the real nightmare followed. From the
fear of vulnerability, as well as the fear of alienation, the man’s fears materialized inside
of his heart.

Offering himself prey to the nightmare he was braving, he saw terrorizing spectacles.
Amidst the impure darkness, he perceived the shape of an antique radio. It was
moderately lit by a scented candle provoking remembrance of his childhood, for it was
his mother’s favourite. The sound remained distant and almost inaudible, although he
initiated his pointless approach. He barely managed to hear what the object emitted.
Cryptic, from its overwhelming statics, it took some effort to decipher, but he caught the
intent. Its meaning forced a crisis over him, as he knew it was only interference to his
goals.

Was he capable of said approval? Was it really impartial to his yearning?

The depth his heart had descended in, made his resurgence of utmost adversity, for
nobody could support his recovery, not even the person he most cared for. He was
alone. The radio proved that firmly, as the voice of his loving mother scattered halfway
through her discourse. Like everything else, the only yet perceivable elements
disappeared in nothingness, leaving the broken heart devoid of substance. He could not
shoulder questions.

Big spherical eyes popped out of the void, frightening the man, unhinged by every
case of terror his heart proclaimed. All staring right at him, he felt violated from all the
unrequested attention. He thought he may save himself by losing himself to the
perpetual hollowness. As he could imagine the glare of others, who had been
capacitated of looking through the depth of his soul, he felt humiliated. A sentiment the
displeased orbs conveyed, since no matter how much one would believe, there was no
way out. As he tried hindering his sight, the image of the glowing eyes penetrated his
mind, through his shut eyes. The man resigned himself to this unbearable feeling,
knowing there was no way a life of this innervation was one he could bear. As he
proceeded to slouch, facing downwards, on the dusk which served as grounding, he
shared glare with a stronger stare. Most of the ones, which had been judging him from
afar, were of generic assemblances, but the one that stood out to him was familiar. It
was those of the person who gave him life, his mother.

He could not endure it anymore, for even his mother invaded him, in his most
vulnerable state. He wanted to explain himself, but only gibberish ensued. Knowing no
sense could be made out of it, he forfeited explaining himself. This feeling of loss for
words propelled him in an arduous situation, for he knew she sought the best for him.

Why did he even need to nourish these stares longing for knowledge? Why did
none of them take part in sharing their vulnerabilities?

It would only be natural for a heart to heart conversation to bring the two sides a
common ground, but there was none of that right now.

The eyes only fed oneself, giving nothing in return, satiating themselves from
someone as helpless as him. He did not want to provide them, but he felt the need, as
the womanly eyes started showing worries and benevolence.

Through the process of understanding such envy towards him, he understood that
he had to break this weakness of his. This would lead to less chances of being hurt, and
more chances of being heard.

Locking his glare in the pitiful eyes he knew so well, he abled himself to speak again,
resonating his voice in every corner of the empty place. As his piercing revelation
echoed throughout the place, the abundance of eyes started slowly melting in white
consistencies. The darkness was replaced by a brighter tint, as only two pairs of eyes
remained visible after the heartfelt battle. Victorious he stood, as accepting himself the
way he hoped others would, had been the first step. As he finally smiled back at the
remaining presences, the brightness slowly augmented, providing a refreshing blue hue
of the sky.

The multiple glares might have seemed like other’s judgements, but it was in truth his
own overwhelming judgment and anxiety.

As he blinked from the blinding whiteness, he was stricken by the significant change
of sight. Now sitting down on a nostalgic couch, he discerned the likewise nostalgic
furniture and essence the room proudly provided. He was now in his mother’s
habitation. From everything he had gone through, he knew for a fact he was not actually
at his mom’s place, for it would not make much sense considering how rarely he were to
visit her. The place felt very comfortable and relaxing, opposed to the colder
atmosphere he usually felt when having to reach her back. Not that he did not like her,
but it was some sort of cold he could not easily manage to prevent, as he would, close
to never, open to her about his personal life and work. After a while, she stopped
questioning.

After feeling the warmth of the room, strongly lit through the gorgeous window view,
two new presences entered the room. As he turned towards the blind spot the door had
been opened from, he sees his mother and another person. From his conflicting
emotions, the habitat faintly altered, then came back, many times. For some odd
reasons, the other person could not be identified, no physical features had been
attributed to them. The woman walked towards him with a pristine smile, as she firmly
gripped the book she was holding and tried conversing with him. But hearing was this
time the function he did not have a grasp of. As he tried reading on her lips as to
understand what she attempted stating, the other unidentified figure advanced as well.
It then started talking with the woman, making it weird for him to stand there clueless
about these developments. As he spoke words to express his confusion, he could clearly
hear his sayings, and they were not what he meant. Surprised expressions ruled the
woman as she had not been expecting something like that to happen out of nowhere.
Her eyes glared at him the same way it had been in his precedent nightmarish reverie.
From the sudden shock, she dropped her novel on the book, where it laid completely
open.

The pure warmth of the room was abruptly replaced with suffocating air and freezing
sensations as the mysterious person slowly started showing familiar traits. Colder it got,
from each ounce of grief he felt, becoming cold enough to freeze his heart once again. It
was a telltale sign he was not yet ready. Not yet ready for his heart suddenly become an
open book. Though his hearing capabilities were back up, he could not make sense of
the chaos happening, as his body froze, and his conscience diminished.

He thought it had been a mistake to proclaim it now, instead of finding the right time,
even though he did not mean it now. His mother showed more worry and love towards
her son, as it was a delicate situation considering the other person present in the room.
His body had almost been crystallized by the freezing atmosphere, as he was halted
there watching everything unfold, senseless. But one could break out of such a state
with motivation and strength of mind.

Reminiscing on his past care and affection for individuals who made his life somehow
more difficult and miserable, he let himself go through old believes of a perfect life. One
he could sadly not achieve in his present state of mind. The affection of those he loved
overpowered any hardship their relationships may have granted him, but he sadly
neglected it all. A pleasing memory followed his forced paralysis, a memory he would
often look back at. It was a fond memory of their friendship, as it held a strong bond.
One that may have exceeded its original purpose on his end, but he never got to
understand how the recipient thought of their liaison. He was to often bring his good
friend back home, back when they were younger. His mother was well acquainted with
them and loved the idea of them being friends, so she did not question it. So didn't
anyone amongst them, for they never foresaw the happenings of unexpected romantic
growth the man suddenly became afflicted with.

The memory in question proposed a strong sense of fellowship as they had both
required putting a small stop to their involvement in each other’s lives when they went
different ways. He on another hand, felt lonely at the thought of losing touch with them.
It would be obvious for him to be the one taking every opportunity to reach back to
them, but he felt scared. As they still messaged each other once in a while, he felt
somehow ashamed he wanted to get back to them in, most likely, different interests. He
thought of letting go, he thought of burying it down with the other feelings he locked
down, but it felt wrong. A ringing noise brought him out of his slumber, as it also
shattered the fortified ice covering his body. It was now the right time, for a simple text
message reading how they would like to meet this weekend it was. The rest of the
memory revealing their longing comeback melted what was left of the cold barricade, as
the room slowly regained its coziness and tenderness. The same warmth he felt when
reuniting with the person he cherished a long time after losing sight of them.

As time reverted to before the big commotion, he could hear the conversation he had
previously stopped. It was a mellow and jovial conversation which had no reason being
disturbed by important things. He thought about it more this time, as he did not yet try
adding anything to the ongoing conversation. Feeling physically pushed away from the
two by the passing second, the fire in his heart materialized, burning the beautiful
furniture. They stood there, conversing, unfazed by their surroundings. From fright, he
attempted rushing ahead to get back to them, but without result it was. As his feet
travelled through the manifestation of isolation, the sheer strength of the unshakeable
force injured his right leg which had been trying to burst through the barricade within
his heart. The flames proceeded to cause grave damage, to which he could not freely fix,
as he was still hesitant deep down, despite his overwhelming devotion.

After losing his way in a relentless attempt at getting back on track, he found himself
at his most wanting to save his heart from desolation. The room which brought him so
much warmth became a simple memory, amidst many others, for it had been replaced
with the surface of another familiar place. It was a home of apparent escapist purposes,
but for what it was, it did anything but serve its original purpose. This distant place of
living was indeed just a reinforcement to the unhealthy behaviour of his isolated self.
Just when he thought he was ready, it had been proven wrong. Hesitation represented
his current being, one that only grew stronger from living in constant isolation. No
matter how much he told himself he would do something about it, nothing came out of
it, for his intents were overshadowed by the fear he just recently chased off. He finally
questioned himself, since not questioning had been his truest rival. As he turned
around, he was faced with a mirror, right above the kitchen sink.

The reflection did not seem to be of his, although it definitely was not the mirror at
fault. It did not feel right, mostly for he could not get any personality or meaning from
the person he was supposed to display. The only thing he sensed from it, was regret.
The regret of not following his instincts no matter being hurt, which had the opposite
effect. His open wounded leg still induced excruciating pain but caring about that was
not what his mind was at right now. Turning once again to evade the sight of the lifeless
figure, he promised himself of trying again, even though it might once again not
succeed. His failures had been more than one could count, for his internal struggles
were of daily repetitions. But there was hope for this loop of doubt to finally come to an
end.

Walking towards the door leading to his only way of breaking out of the denial his
heart had been slumbering on, he found himself suddenly weakened by the wound,
making him pass out. He laid there, on the ground, as a fracture comparable to his own
wound, made its way across the room. The promises he had proclaimed were of an
eventual end, as he never expected sudden pain to bring him down. But he questioned
it. What was it all about, was it still something that could be fought and fixed, like
previous hardships?

As he found the answer, one that obviously bore more than the mistakes he learned
from. There was only one real way to break out of the endless repetition of internal pain
he lived with for a long time. He had to start questioning himself, as he had lost his way
throughout not trying to understand himself. His buried feelings were opposition to his
growth as a person, as they were only disturbances to the person this path was leading
him. He had to question his miserable self, cure his wounded heart, and stand proud.
 From the fissured room, a bright light invaded, blinding him for an instant. When he
succeeded in recomposing himself, he found himself laying on what seemed like a road.
As he tried to at least arrange himself in a more favourable position, he grasped a
beautiful scenery, where stood two paths separating the roadway. As he would have
normally not questioned himself over which one to chose, and would have just gone
through the easier one, he instead opted for the optimal way. The only requisite to
walking down this track was of understanding and accepting who he was. While he had
been understanding himself for a while, he required the combination for it to be fruitful.
Not fully knowing what to accept, and who he, therefore, was accepting, did not
amount to any progression and growth. Self-knowledge it was, as most people came to
term with issues easily without dragging them along for a long period of time while
being more arduous for others. But it was finally time for his redemption, as he
concluded his journey through self-discovery, and therefore knew the man he was,
more than the one he tried to emulate before. Raising himself had become an easy task,
compared to his previous attempts, as the wound on his leg had healed up; so did the
one in his heart.

He had never run faster, his body swiftly chased after the unconcluded concept of
freedom, as his heart stopped being lied to, and he remembered to healthily question
himself alongside his place in the universe. Reaching the outer edge of the
predetermined horizon he had sailed towards, he jumped off it. It felt odd for him
having to do such a thing, but it felt right, and the answer to his questioning had him
follow this resolve. As he indulged himself in the meaningless pit of emptiness he fell in,
reality stroke him. He had to build his own self. To build his own path to fulfilment.

Now that he understood and accepted himself, he could safely think of finally
entrusting the final step. Instinctively closing his eyes, he saw himself back to the
desolated heart he once endured, as it had to be taken care of. He was quickly reminded
of his previous interaction here, for he had to understand the way to get rid of this
denial filled ruin he first encountered. Unlike the previous iteration, the doors to the
buildings were all wide open. As he walked, to same house, without the pain of an open
wound, he briefly saw the inside of the specific house. The house he had been
previously instinctively drawn to before, was his mother’s, to whom his heart had not
bore the pressure. As he entered the house, he was yet again faced with the disability of
not hearing certain sounds. The room felt emptier, but it was not as much of a void as
the precedent iteration of the empty heart he once had. The emptied location now had
some sort of meaning, as he questioned the reason why it was once devoid of
everything.

The answer was simple, he had only been fleeing the truth. Making every issue, every
difficulty, invisible for his own good. But in the end, he had to face it. The more he
wandered, the more furniture materialized. As he progressed towards a different room,
that most likely was the living room, he heard the voice he had hoped to hear the most
right now. Not of his mother, but of the person he was most passionate about. The
voice, which had also questioned him the last iteration, was yet again the only thing he
managed to hear in that instant.

“So, this is who you are, huh? I always wondered why you always seemed hurt, but
you never spoke out… Keep it up, you’re almost there.”

Confidence grew, and never had he been readier to move ahead. He knew all of this
was only internal, so, as he knew what awaited him, he resumed his quest. As he set
foot on the doorway, which separated the entrance and the living room, he saw through
the distant window the landscape of the stunning city. It was no longer the broken-
down area it once was, his own fully heart became an open book to him. He then
walked towards it to get a closer look at its beauty, steadily opening it. It had been
almost effortless, while the rest of his nature was now in his hand. He indulged in it,
lived with it. As the refreshing breeze gently brushed over him, with a sweet scent of
love, a new voice made its way into the man’s hearing; as it instantly regained its full
capacity, auditing the surrounding’s noises such as birds and the tv show playing in the
living room’s tv.
 “You’re finally back….” Said the woman, breaking down into tears, as she rushed to
him for a caring and heartbreaking hug.

He had never been as emotionally involved with her as now, for the last few times he
stood besides her were of few words, and especially not many expressions. It was all his
fault, he who hid himself in a cocoon of false pretends, was not the child she knew she
had. Now that the person she knew being her child was back as the man he had grown
to be, she was deeply moved, as the fake one was not of her wishes. The most painful
thing to her stood from losing the son she cherished. Embracing him as every loving
mother would, she gave him back the meaning of love he had lost.

As he got over this emotional rush which had left him crying tears of recognition,
someone else entered the living room. As the gentle hug parted ways from the
empowering embrace of renewed existence, a peculiar feel of longing proved the
everlasting wait meant not an impossible one. Filled with an unexpected refreshing
smell, the room had seen renewal. Devoted as he was, he broke through the chained
barricade of diamond’s resistance which shone through as a revelation, one of internal
glory.

So, it had come to an end for the man who fought through fear and hardship to get
only a small grasp of the prolongedly awaited awakening. In the meantime of his final
struggle, many more had been fighting similar struggles, and many others got back up,
whatever issues they may have had before.

The end.