He didn’t have the heart for devotion, but she was a sight to behold. She exuded a fine, white light that startled one’s eyes and pierced through any lingering shadow, and he was captivated, as a moth is consumed by its flame.
He had never seen someone quite like her – she embodied all that he’d longed for, yet never had. And yet, held back by rusting chains of his own creation, he could not find it in himself to even do so little as to approach her. He figured it a waste of time, for although he’d never met a being such as her, he could still predict how it would end.
So, he watched. He always had been an observer. Day after day, he would rest his hand on his chin and watch her succeed, watch her fail, watch her share her life with those lucky enough to surround her. Deep down, he felt a twinge of disdain for her peers – they thought themselves worthy, and so, he detested them mutely. And when the darkest days overcame her, the pain he felt from witnessing her heartbreak from a hopeless distance was nothing compared to the idea of a life cut off from her completely.
Sunset to sunrise, the boy would return to his own miserable doings, wasting away until the morning.
Weeks turned into months, and he grew oblivious to all but her. She was his sun, his harbinger of glorious light, and so, he served her faithfully. He had come to know her well, and thus he knew how to make her smile, how to tease out her sunshine-like laugh, and observer no more, he had finally built up the courage to exchange words with her.
She sweetened his dreams with her soothing presence beside him, and nights became more bearable. Her hands whispered stories of brighter futures, and with them, he learned how to hope. He had never been religious and never would be, but he thanked God for bestowing a grounded angel to live out her days with him. She conducted a symphony of color, and he felt lucky to play in her orchestra.
Years later, on his way to work, the young man passed a cafe lit by blue lights and candles. A boy was perched at a window seat, peeking at the barista serving icy drinks with a customer-service smile on his face. His face radiated light and the boy watching seemed to longingly cling to every inch of it. With a slight smile, the man drove on. Observing was a lovely thing to do, but she had pulled him out of his mind and helped him to live, and he’d never looked back.