Pandora

I have chosen the topic of chaos recently for open discussion and have smiled at the well thought out responses. My own chaos often comes in the form of a tall Roman who wears the bluest eyes across a worried brow. I have not heard from him, not even a hint. I think perhaps I have become chaos in the midst for him.

After all this time. Both of us might have found our own personal peace in that we should not remain in each other's presence for long periods of time. I think this is a wise choice for me. I don't know if it would be a wise choice for him. I've stopped trying to help him out of his own personal chaos ages ago.

I've discovered a little sanity and peace in the libraries of Nepal. Manuals and tomes of history, law, and religion amongst other subjects, have filled my evenings. The feel of old paper, parchment and even palm leaves in my hands bring back memories.

Good memories.

Pleasant memories.

Memories of peace and contentment.


Pandora
Friday
August 19, 2011

I rose the very moment the sun dipped into the horizon, waking immediately. I did very little to prepare as I was never one to make a spectacle of myself. I wore a simple skirt of gray and a silk top of teal. It was a windy night, so I tied my hair up with several pins to keep it in place. I had to remind myself that Marius was going to be here tonight. I had to keep myself grounded or else I feared I would fall into darkness as I had more than once before.

I stopped short of walking through the entry door. I stopped and listened for any evidence that Marius had arrived. I heard nothing but the wind. Wind that was both fierce as well as gentle. One that could hinder you should it rush in the opposite direction, though it could also provide warm comfort. Conflict and peace. Peace and conflict. Likewise, what Marius and I have become to each other.

I stood looking out across the vast span of water flowing under the moonlight so poetically. The wind and waves sounded like a symphony; one that could lull even the wicked beasts to slumber. I thought constantly of Marius. My every thought revolved around him. Then fear struck me in my center. Would he even appear? Would he desire not to see me at all? Would he finally come to the realization that he had had all that he could stand? It felt as if I stood there for hours. Watching. Waiting.

A sudden breeze caught me unawares and it was then that I felt his presence. It was then that I saw his face, the wind, still my companion set my hair to dance across my face. I did not move, I found I could not. My mind, which just moments before was laden with deep thoughts, was now blank. I fought to keep my ground should he have come here tonight to tell me of his regrets or how I had disappointed him.

I did not want to bring up our past even though our past is what sometimes dictates to us what we say and do to one another. I did not want to make mention of our offenses, shortcomings nor the error of our ways. I did not even want words. Would he know? Would he see? Would he understand?

He came to me and I felt weak enough to fall into his arms. His embrace saved me instantaneously. My arms wound around him, feeling his strength steady me, catching me before I could fall. I crushed my face to his chest if only to hear his heart beating. I inhaled his scent just before I asked him to forgive me. My words, my actions, the pain I caused him when I, just moments before promised myself that I would not bring up crimes of the past.

I looked up into his eyes. Eyes that led me to his soul each and every time. Eyes that gave me utter and absolute peace as my being clung to every part of him. He looked at me with the same eyes I discovered when I was still just a little girl. With tenderness he began undoing the pins I placed in my hair. Section by section until my hair flowed around both of us. We shared a kiss and I knew then that he desired the very same peace I sought.

His words comforted me and he held my face in his hands, much like he would always hold my heart. I watched his bluer than blue eyes study my face with an artist's eyes. Then he spoke and his words, I knew somehow, were meant for both of us. "So old, so apparently wise, and so capable of making the same mistakes." I could not help but to kiss him across his face. I kissed his eyelids, his temples, his brow, his cheeks and chin, then his jaw before my lips pressed softly against his own.

Did he see how much I loved him? Could he feel much I yearned for his presence without the pain and bitterness? Would he realize that he would always and for eternity be my love, my peace, my hope?

With fingers entwined, we walked closer to the water. A gentle breeze caressed us as it did centuries ago. We were the very same people, but as everything changes, so have we. Despite this, we are still one in more ways than we will probably ever be aware of.

We spoke briefly of Armand and Daniel. Of the beauty that was Santorini. As we spoke, I felt him watching me and turned to meet his gaze. We were no longer Marius and Pandora, Children of the Millennia, we were just a man and a woman. There was a pure honesty in that one moment, something that I have never experience with any other.

He then turned his eyes from mine with a question of remaining here or returning to Venice. He was simply beautiful, purely adorable as he did it. I smiled widely, I could not help but to do so. I told him I wanted to remain, if only to take in Santorini again with him by my side.

There came a subtle hint of sadness in his eyes, and I turned his face to look at me. Again, he turned his eyes towards the dark waters. I moved closer and pressed my cheek to his back. My eyelids fluttered to close as my hands clutched his upper arms gently. This was a moment of peace, of Marius and I, a moment of the past realized in the present to always be part of the future.

He wanted to see what I saw. He wanted to experience what I felt as I explored Santorini on my own. He wanted me to take him to the place I loved the most since coming here. I took his hand in mine and lead him from Armand and Daniel's home. I took him to the Red Beach which is near Akrotiri. These two locations are where Marius and I spent so much of our time together while in Santorini. It was him, it was me, it was us.

Pandora
Saturday
January 2nd, 2010

Armand and Daniel have returned from Rome and both appeared to be more at ease. To watch them together is close to watching two who have always been. I even caught an unguarded smile from Armand. He is very beautiful, and I see why Marius loves him so much.

Marius and I have discovered parts of history weaved into the beauty that Santorini is. We've walked through ruins and touched with our own hands objects and items that have survived longer than even I. Marius has taken an interest in the wall paintings we have found, the details and colors preserved surprisingly well. We've shared nights of conversation and also have found several items that we will probably translate and add to our works.

All in all, our time here has deep meaning to me. Every moment spent with Marius has opened my eyes and soothed my soul. He is my love, my peace. Always.

Pandora
Thursday
December 3rd, 2009

Feel free to add me and I will return the favor.

http://www.myspace.com/pandora_deromanus

"And she was walking away! Like always, walking away without even so much as a look back. Walking away as if doing so was natural and effortless. How could she not suffer the way that I suffered when I stared at her back, her exiting form?

How was it so easy for her?"

It's never easy to walk away, Marius. I can turn my back on anything, anyone, any time. But you, it was never an easy thing to do.

I arrived in Venice early. I wanted to see Marius but I don't think he realizes just how much I miss him. He thinks to read me is to read the expression on my face, my gestures or to weigh the tone of my voice. If he only knew exactly what was in my head, but then if he did, it would be more of a challenge than it is now. He would constantly ask me to explain every thought and idea that I had and if he didn't mean to ask, he would look at me with disappointment. It is this very thing, when he looks at me with disappointment in his eyes, that I can't bare, I never could. It was this very reason why I spent hours walking the narrow walkways of Venice prolonging meeting with Marius.

I must have walked in circles tonight. I lost track of time as my thoughts returned to the past. Moments spent with Marius. I've never experienced better times with another. I'm aware that it also means the frustrations and struggles were unlike that I have ever known with another. However, the thought of seeing him again was overwhelming. I don't recall the last time I set my eyes on him. I don't even remember the last time I heard his voice. Regardless, I still saw him in my mind's eye. I never forgot what it was like to feel his warm, strong embrace around me or the sound of his laughter. I never forgot what it felt like to feel his breath pressing at the back of my neck or his touch when he caressed my shoulders. I don't think it's possible to forget anything about Marius. With this in mind, I approached his home and entered in silence.

I stood there, inside his doorway, not meaning to take another step until I saw him. Before I saw him, my other senses were took everything in. The scent was no longer the city of Venice, but it was the very familiar scent of all things Marius. Paper and thick parchments. The smell of candles burning and mounds of soft wax cooling with the passing seconds. A variety of inks that I remembered well. Paints, I swear that I could sometimes pick out the colors from just the scent of them. Marius' home was warm and flourished with the perfume of freshly cut flowers. I heard movement and I knew it was him who neared. When I saw his face I wanted to reach for him. I wanted to laugh out loud for the man that I adored. I wanted to fall into his arms for the love that would always be ours.

I didn't. Instead, I watched him. His gestures. His eyes. I measured the time in between how his eyes shifted, how his lips moved and came to the conclusion that he was not as happy as I was to see him. His eyes studied me, as if I were captured by a lawman and put on trial. He appeared disheartened by what he saw. When he folded his hands behind his back, I felt defeated before I even tried. Confusion returned. Why was I here at all if he wanted something else, deserved something else? Is it pity that forces him to want to see me only to realize I am no different than I was so many years ago?

I followed him silently into his study. I smiled silently to myself. It was almost exactly the same as years ago when we would sit under the stars and indulge in texts and translations. Volumes and volumes of written masterpieces that we would translate onto new paper. It was a labor of love for us, these were times of perfection.

He offered me a book that I hadn't see before, but when I held it in my hands it felt as if I'd read it a hundred times. I read it through to myself, a lovely little poem written so long ago by someone unknown to me. I recited the words out loud, the tempo of each word perfectly spoken.

"My love, like stars in the sky, hundreds sprinkled to send darkness away." I looked up at him when I read these words, he seemed utterly unmoved except the sigh meant he desired something more. Unhappy with my reading, he ordered me to sit and write it instead. A command, as if I was one to be commanded.

"Did I come here to be ordered to work?"

I saw frustration in his expression. I heard it in the tone he used. "Then do you mean to do nothing? Why are you here?"

After all the time I've loved him he still fails to realize that I love him for who he is. Not for the artist or the historian. Not for the Roman blood that runs through his veins or how the color of his eyes returns me to the sunlit summer skies of my youth.

"You do not know why, Marius?"

His reply is one I have heard many times before. He does not profess to know what is in my head. I watched him and saw that we were both ruining the moment. Instead of dwelling on it, I decided to change the topic at hand. This way, it wouldn't end up in a argument. Marius and I have had arguments in the past that have ended up with neither of us recalling what it was we argued about in the first place.

It was the Roman in him. It was the Roman in me. I would never allow my role to be that of an obedient wife. If I allowed a single slip, he would take it to mean that I was finally becoming comfortable with it. I don't think I would ever find comfort in not being myself. I told him so. Not to speak for me, and for what I mean to do. Then we fell into what we loved doing so long ago. We shared pages and pages. These were our pages. Our words. Our time. Our love.

The words came easily, they always did when Marius was beside me. It made me want to reach out to him and embrace him for the realization that moments like these I could never share with another. Several times we had to discuss a certain interpretation before putting it to paper. I'd fallen into the harmony we were now part of. How intense and relaxing the moment was for me. I heard the sound of a pen being set down on the desk and looked into his eyes.

I smiled at him. I couldn't help the need to smile at him. It was the moment, this moment was ours and ours alone. I would go to him, embrace him close to me, tell him how much I missed him, how much I wanted to be with him. I didn't realize the time that had passed as we became one with our work and with each other. I thought to make light of the situation, never one who was good at humor, I failed.

Marius de Romanus had one of his infamous temper tantrums. For what exactly did he get angry about, I could not say. Pushing his chair in an outrage. Piling books in measured rage. I watched him, I could not pull my eyes away. I was confused, I wanted to understand what caused him to be so upset, so disappointed. He didn't even want to look at me. Did I disgust him so much? Was I a pang of regret that flourished in his veins when he looked at my face?

I softly set my pen down on the desk and rose. I said in a soft voice, "If this is what you want." I rose without another word, feeling the air warm to the emotions that were coming from both of us. We were both angry but I didn't want the night to end this way. I came here with nothing because I have nothing of worth to carry for long distances. I wanted nothing to impede our time together. So what happened? I kept asking myself as I walked towards the doorway, what happened? I went over every word and gesture, every thought and emotion. With each step my heart twisted, again, knowing the heartache I have caused which is Marius' bitterness.

It was his hand in mine that made me stop this train of thought. How easily he could pull me out of confusion and absurdity with a touch or a word. He said one word and I thought I would weep, but I didn't. "Stay." It was all I needed to hear. He wanted me to stay with him. My free hand went to his face, fingertips caressed gently the face of a man I had fallen in love with so long ago. How couldn't he see this in my eyes? How did he not come to realize that the woman standing in front of him could not live without him? How?

Pandora
Friday
November 21, 2008

"How you misread my expression, my love."

How is it that two people who know each other so well, over lifetimes, over centuries, can still misread the other so thoroughly?