We flew, She and I, through the heavens, high above the earth. Together, we watched the world as it spun and we felt free and together. We were one and nothing was ever going to tear us apart ever again. It was absolutely fantastic.
Until it wasn’t.
Don’t ask me to explain what happened. I never did a meteorology course, and even if I had, I doubt they cover winds with people infused in them. All I know is that, as we rode the jet stream over the American southwest, we split. She went one way and I another and it hurt and it hurt and it hurt so badly and I screamed for her but either She didn’t hear or She couldn’t hear or She didn’t care. I was alone again.
And I was still wind, which really fucked me off. I miss my body and this is getting tedious. Being in all places is cool for a while. And then it’s not. Flying here and there like the wind — nay, AS the wind — is brilliant for a while. And then it’s very not.
At any rate, there was nothing for me to do and so I continued to circle the world as a wind, a despairing wind, a wailing wind, hoping that I may again find her.
But I didn’t, for the longest time; I couldn’t find her. All I found was hate and death and greed and destruction and all the terrible things in the world. I found parents abusing their children, children starving in the streets, old men signing away their grandchildren’s futures for a few bucks here and now, everyone lying to everyone else in order to get ahead and the consequences be damned because only they matter at only that moment in time.
I hate this world. I hate these people. I want to wipe the earth clean like some divine wind. But that’s not what I am, and who am I to make such judgements? No, after all, I am just wandering as lonely as a cloud, searching for the part of me that was torn away so suddenly.
Instead of being a vengeful destroying wind, I spend my days looking for those who are in pain, who are crying, who need a hug, and, as best as I can being nothing more than wind, I hug them, and I hope that they feel loved, if only for a moment. It may be silly, but I am trillions of years old from another universe, with no body — nothing is too absurd.
I suddenly realize that I’m over the American southwest again, near where I lost her. My mood darkens, and I soar lower, searching for her as I do when I come this way. I hear bells. Church bells. Approaching the source, I see there’s a wedding taking place. Or, there was meant to be, but the bride has burst out of the doors alone, her face tear-streaked. She hops in a car and speeds off through the scrubland on the only highway in sight. I follow her.
After hours of driving, never meeting another car, she runs out of gas and pulls over. Exiting the car, she begins walking down the road, her large billowing wedding dress making going slow. I do what I can to buoy the dress and make it lighter, to make her going easier. And then I see her face clearly.
It’s She, who I lost long ago but now I’ve found. I know not the circumstances that have brought us together again, but I am glad.
She continues to walk along the middle of the road, her dress floating around her as well as I can make it. I blow gently in her face, to dry her tears. She stops, looks about with a puzzled look. I gently blow through her hair, and She smiles. She remembers. And we are together again.
And She begins.
It is the fault of this age, She sings, that without dignity we cling to the fact that we were born — it’s the only thing we have.
Ah, but now is the time, She sings, that we need to stand up and regain ourselves.
Regardless of how far apart we are, She continues, we are beneath the same sky. Some day, one day, we’ll go to that place we saw in our dreams. You are my traveling soulmate, and I shall never forget that.
Surely, She sings, light and shadow are one and the same thing. Squint, and you’ll see that I’m right.
The sadness that underpins your joy, She sings, they make you who you are. But I still wish for the end of your pain.
Regardless of how far apart we are, She sings, we’re always side by side. And should that day come when you lie broken and finished, remember that you are loved.
Nothing happens by chance, She sings, everything that has happened was inevitable.
At least, that’s what I think.
With all of my might, I will myself to hug her, to properly embrace her, my being nothing but wind be damned. I concentrate, and I blow towards her. Her hair and her dress flutter. Dust rises from the road. She covers her eyes.
And in that moment, I am no longer the wind. I am made flesh again. Holding her in that wasteland, the heat from the tarmac burning my feet, I feel such joy. The look of confusion when She uncovers her eyes was more amusing than anything else, but the happiness that replaced it was worth our long separation. We stand there like that for a while, and the clouds darken and the weather starts to turn.
And then, in the distance, a vehicle approaches. A white van, we can tell, as it gets closer. We think nothing of it. I suppose I ought to have wondered if her stood-up fiance would come hunting for us, but I didn’t. And he didn’t.
Instead, it turned out, he sent the nice young men in their clean white coats. The van slammed on the brakes as it got to us, and out piled six men. They swarmed at us, four taking her by each of her limbs and carrying her into the back of the van, ignoring her pleading and her struggling. The other two restrained me. When She was strapped to a gurney in the back of the van, only then did they let me go. I gave chase, but they drove away so quickly.
And so here I am, alone again. In the desert.
But I have my body back. And there’ll be hell to pay.