"Unbearable Displacement" by Isaiah G.

I was displaced. Thrown from my home and because of my… state I could not return to it. For this, I would not be distraught because I tend not to miss what I had or where I’ve been, being that my eyes are mostly confined to the same sight for days before a change of scenery; however, this was different. She was something like I’d never seen before. Through years of traveling all over what I can only imagine as the entire world, never had I seen anyone of her beauty. She was just like me but so different in the best way possible. Never had our lips moved for each other to hear the sounds that would escape like how the kind walking man does ever so often, but still I knew we looked at the same things; we observed the same world, yet her eyes were much kinder than my own. I loved everything about her. Her deep, dark eyes, her soft arms, even her tummy similar in shape to mine. She was the one I wanted to sit next to, just as the birds i’d see on my windowsill, or the books on the desk, or the small red spotted beetles I’d see collecting leaf parts, or even those who were like the kind walking man, all sitting next to each other just like I longed to be sat next to her. We were close once. In the car, on a group trip to another part of this world, we were next to each other and suddenly the car hopped and we were displaced; Though no longer sitting, we were close, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up with love as I lay so close to her. We then reached our destination and were separated, leaving me longing to be sat next to her once more. We enjoyed, somewhat, the days when the man left us sitting down and we would take in the world with each other, and each time he left he would sit us closer and closer, only leaving me counting down these times until I’d be next to her. Finally, after 15 or so of these occurrences, I was next to her. I couldn’t believe it! It was just like I had imagined. That feeling of tingles going down my back was so nice to me and eventually they would go away, only to leave a sort of warm pressure in my belly and my throat, which remained closed like my lips, so we never spoke. We would just watch as the shadows moved across the great room we were in until the kind walking man came back. This happened somewhat regularly for a while and I grew attached to this feeling in my belly, and would anxiously await my next time to be sitting with her; however, one day the kind walking man left in a hurry, casting me about the great room, by accident I’m sure due to his kind nature towards me always, but nonetheless casting me away from her. This feeling came back, the one in my belly, but this time it wasn’t a warm pressure, but instead a cold stone that welled inside of me. I was so far from her I couldn’t even see her wonderful eyes. Instead, all I had was the faint outline of her features my heart had burned into my brain over the weeks, and the tingly feeling of knowing she was there, somewhere across the fluid, yet stagnant black that flooded between her and I. I felt anger and frustration at my worthless vestigial limbs for not allowing me to sit next to her. I envied the kind walking man as I never had before; he could move himself and sit next to anyone he pleased. He could go where he wanted, and more importantly, he could stay where he wanted. My awful cursed state left me vegetative so I couldn’t even travel to see the face of my love whom I adore. I was cast away, helpless like a book fallen from the shelf, stranded until the kind walking man came back to bring me home. I couldn’t bear it. My unmoving limbs only mocked me with their warmness giving the illusion that they are alive. My eyes were stagnant and cursed to only see what I had lost. I had always dreaded staying in one place for long, but for her, I would stay in one place forever. Her fuzzy snout and deep, dark eyes that looked at the same things I did. Her round tummy, the same as mine. Our vegetative state cursed us both but sitting next to each other we didn’t need to move anyways; instead I’m sitting across the room, waiting for the kind walking man to come back and announce, “oh no, I dropped my bear.”