Mist (Missed)

I feel like I am in a horror movie.

I look all around, but my vision is clouded. The streets are still bustling with impatient drivers – the piercing honking of their horns reminds me of that much - but I can’t see far enough down the street to know what they are honking at. It doesn’t matter anyway, though; I know it cannot be anything important because Peruvians honk their car horns just as often as they breathe.

The fog has rolled in and overtaken the city just like 1 million armies have done throughout history. Smothering, commanding, refusing to be ignored – for some reason I cannot get the word “omnipotent” out of my head as this force swallows me up. It has overtaken me, yet I cannot feel it at all.

I am starting to think this is what love is - so engrossed by something that I cannot grab onto, feel, or hold, but all too aware of its presence all around me.

I mistakenly think that walking into the fog will be refreshing, that it will cleanse me, or that it will give me a crisp chill from its dewy kiss, but yet I feel nothing. I open my eyes only to find that around me is nothing. I continue forward towards the fog just ahead, but still nothing. It seems that wherever I am, the fog has just vacated. That it is always ahead, but never with me. I am always one step behind.

I am starting to think this is what love is – unobtainable.

I feel like I am in a horror movie. The fog has rolled in and clouded our vision.