IN A HAZE OF FICTION
Come in, let me tell you a story . . .
A night in the life of a feeling
by Y.L. Reyes on April 21st, 2012

“Right after you feel something for the first time, only then you realize you never felt it
before”. That is how you get to know who I truly am. All you thought before were just abstract
concepts of me. Last night, for example, I had her. My biggest challenge to be precise and I did
a virtuoso performance on her! It was midnight when I made my appearance. I began crawling
from her stomach to her chest, tearing down walls of disbelief and logic. She kept trying to
fight it, they all do at first, but I have the experience and I am one of the best in this field. I
was prepared, and logic was no match for me.
While I was setting up near her heart, using our latest state-of-the-art instruments and liquids
(all necessary for the successful completion of my task), she began to wonder what was
happening. The first serum began doing its work, I could now see her heart racing, her mind
asking “How can it be? “I haven’t seen him in years!” She looked around her empty apartment
with confusion, as if the answer could be found there. This part brings awful memories back of
my exile by her. That dreadful moment when she accused, judged and banished me to live in
darkness until deemed necessary. I want to scream at her. I want to tell her that her questions
are so pointless because she knew I was there for years, piled up under walls and rubble of
constant reasoning. But I remained calm and continue. I dug my way out and am now free to
finish my task once again. I will not fail.

I reach her heart; this is the exciting part, and using a fogging loop, I gently squeeze between
the Right and the Left Ventricle (I’ve always been excellent in anatomy of this organ, earning
a well deserved A+ in my class) releasing the pressure caused by an incessant brain-thinking
function. I need to make her accept it, to accept her feelings. To believe. I fight off the
armies of excuses; they are strong, determined, but I'm better. Feelings like me don't quit,
we continue, making appearances where we are least expected. We persist and at the end
everybody gives in. Nobody is safe.

I finish off her troops with a quick blow, retaliating with the happiness I bring, with the beauty
I provide. Firing possibilities at them, beliefs of how she can do anything, overcome anything.
I'm there squeezing her heart, watching her logic soldiers perish under my strength, and
suddenly her rendition comes. There is no more fighting or arguing; she is full of bliss. Now,
the reason, the external reason is of no importance. It does not matter what tomorrow will
bring; she smiles because she can feel me and deeply knows me now; she accepts me. She
laughs because it feels fantastic. The dreaming comes, and a smile reigns in her eyes.
I am the feeling of love and I was sent here to release her heart from the stronghold of
fear. I am here to expose her heart to the world and to clean it from doubts or any made-up
dangers. I'm here to make her feel, to make her love unconditionally and to surrender. I have
succeeded. Now I must go. There is a new and challenging case: religion and man-made rules
against love. I must free the lovers. You can’t choose us. Rules won’t stop us because like I
said, nobody is safe from love.


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