Home Poetry Cire the Odysseus

Cire the Odysseus

by Stephanie Alfaia

And the sun set on the third day.
She was lost.
Pacing, walking, strolling, back and forth between the streets of 41 and 42.
Cigarette in hand, she cursed her lack of will. I must quit.
Bursts of laughter, sparks of sadness, an array of emotion when his eyes came to mind.
What am I going to do?

Gabrielle fell solemn when she realized she would never hear from him again.
Whether she wanted to or not, he would soon become a distant memory.
Two days in which she shared the most intimate wave of love that she could draw from her heart.

Cire felt it too. She choose to believe so anyway.
He swam into her and away, allowing himself to revel in her energy, in her love, then running away into what he was sworn to. Cire was a responsible man. Logical, safe. He knew better than to ruin something he knew, for a chance at the unknown – even if the unknown would shower him with a brighter future.

Gabi spent hours replaying their memories together. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
He danced his way towards her swaying figure. His eyes – innocent. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing,” he thought. Smiling, an incandescent smile, Cire made his way over to the girl who wanted nothing from life, save a chance at being free to be herself. The tangible freedom she exerted, attracted him. Gabrielle’s cousins giggled and urged her on. “He is staring your way, dance with him!” And so she did. Making a right turn on a dead end road.

They danced for what seemed like hours. His eyes locked in hers, hand in hand, matching rhythm, energy in tune. They were one. Cire would catch himself, occasionally blurting out “Wow, your smile is beautiful!” Little did he know Gabrielle was lucidly dreaming about his.
The loudness on the dance floor, overlapping voices, endless laughter, and heartfelt music, all blurred into the Romeo & Juliet moment. Neither Cire nor Gabrielle understood what was happening, but they refused to stop.

“We’re celebrating Cire’s Bachelor Party!” his best friend yelled. But the room remained unmoved. Gabrielle remained untouched. She was stuck between Cire’s eyes and his lips. She heard everything and nothing. He didn’t react, as if the statement were his favorite color, rather than a life changing status. They danced, and danced, and smiled, and reveled, until they realized they were breathing each other’s air.

Inebriated invites to the next location sounded from one party to the other. Everyone was invited, love, friendship, and alcohol spewing from the crowd’s pores. “We have a limo ready to go!” And so they left. Cire took Gabrielle’s hand, urging her to follow him. He wanted nothing more than to spend time alone, away… with her. He wanted to understand every inch of the soul who caught his eye, and who was quickly crawling into his heart.

They walked around the lobby, until Gabrielle noticed the purple podium for the 7th time. He was nervous. Unsure what to do, Cire skipped over to the nearest bar. “I can’t let her go,” he thought. Gabi was lost in translation. Her mind was screaming societal norms, karma rules, and self-respecting reminders. Her heart was intertwined – love at first sight with specs of Isolde and Ariel. Two hopeless romantics, walking themselves into heartbreak.

Cire was in awe. He couldn’t understand why he had met such a beautiful creature during such poor time. “Why couldn’t I have met you three months ago?” he uttered softly under his breath. “Things would be so different.” Gabrielle sighed, she only hoped he was feeling exactly what she felt, but the girl was shocked to learn Cire had deep dived into Hades.

They spent the entire night together. Exchanging hopes and dreams, feelings and giggles. Gabrielle would flash a deathly smile, part of her knew Cire had sipped every last bit of Lotus drink. Only he did not turn swine. He remained impassive, the perfect gentleman. And they were in love. How can this be happening? He is getting married. Laying in bed, like children who refuse to meet darkness, story-telling the night away, the doomed lovers embraced. “Tell me everything, I want to know everything about you,” he requested.

In his arms she was home, in her eyes he was scared. Gabrielle couldn’t understand why he looked away. She knew he had to fight it, and she respected him for that. Nevertheless, her heart begged him to succumb.
“Don’t do that,” he continued. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why?” she urged, “are you afraid of happiness?”
“No, I’m scared of how you make me feel. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Words she had a hard time believing, even being the gullible little girl she knew she was.
“I want to make you the happiest man on this planet,” she explained.
“I know you would, and it terrifies me. What are we going to do?”
“We? Cire, you’re getting married.”
“Yes, but I love you Gabrielle, I am in love with you!”
He closed his eyes, and she felt his pain; his confusion. She knew their love was sporadic, impulsive, extreme, but she was fully aware that it was real. Cire’s touch was as innocent as love allows. Gabrielle’s offer was as passive as a woman in love is capable.

Her third cigarette was reaching its end. She was frantic. Calculating ways, imagining, losing herself with the thought of barging into Cire’s wedding. Stopping the ceremony with a mere “I love you too.” Mere, say, far from mere. She knew it was impossible. Cire had made a promise. He dedicated three months to a future he felt was irreversible. Gabrielle held herself from deluding Cire’s relationship with his fiance – that was none of her business. She spent very little time wondering what it was she was offering him, shining onto him, that he was not receiving where it was due, No, Gabi was never a fan of statistics, of logic, of reality. She preferred the company of her literary heroes. Stories with happy and tragic endings. She constantly reminded herself that Odysseus returned to Penelope, leaving Circe to her emotional doom. Gabrielle was aware she would suffer the same emotional ending. He is getting married, don’t you dare forget.

The girl had nothing left but to hold dear to her last image. She was able to clearly see herself hugging Cire for the last time. His eyes fighting tears, his mind in turmoil, his hands begging to grab the girl and never let her go. Gabrielle walked away, confused, hurt, loved, lost. The unknowing cab driver immediately asked, “Tell me, how many hearts did you break last night?”
“No, darling, I am Circe, he is Odysseus, she is Penelope.”

You may also like

Leave a Comment