Please...

I stand alone in a building. Closed doors surround me, mocking me with their silence. Glancing all around, trapped in the darkness, I am lost. I don't know which way to go. I don't know where to find her. I have to find her. I have to.

 

She must be here. I just saw her, but then she vanished. Each time is the same. Striding forward, I reach out my hand for her. She shifts, moving without really moving, escaping once more. I must keep searching for her. I have to find her. I simply have to.

 

I pick a door, throw it open, and find nothing but an empty corridor in front of me. I pick another door, then another, then another. All corridors. None of them share even a single hint, a simple clue as to where she has gone. I run, dashing down the corridor. Twisting, turning, I follow the path to another door. Another door as unkind and indistinguishable from any of the others.

 

I open it, then barrel through, finding another spacious room with absolutely nothing in it but me. It feels hollow. I feel hollow. Hollow without her. All those doors again. So many doors. None of them will comfort me. I pick another. I run through. I run and run until I can run no more. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I am unsure if I can go on.

 

So many doors. So many hallways. Doors leading to more doors. Hallways leading to even more hallways. Countless amounts of each hindering me in my quest to find her. Each time I do, sharing the same space for only a matter of moments, it seems there are even more doors and more hallways than the last time I was blessed by her presence. I keep moving, but I’m losing faith. Perhaps this quest was all for naught. Perhaps I never should have bothered to begin with.

 

Hopelessness reaches for me. I do all I can to battle it back. I know what I must do. I must keep going, I tell myself. Somehow, I must keep going. Somehow, I must find her. I must.

 

All I want is to see her face again. I need to see her smile. I am hungry for any bit of attention she can offer me, no matter how little. I would love to hold her hand. I would love to kiss her lips. I would love to gaze into her eyes. I would love to make her laugh, to make her happy, to affect her in any way. I will keep searching for her for even a single opportunity to become as important to her as she is to me.

 

Perhaps she can save me. Perhaps she can be the shining light which drives back all the darkness. Perhaps.

 

Or perhaps not. Perhaps I've been wasting days, weeks, months, years chasing after her. Perhaps the darkness is too strong for anyone to rescue me. Perhaps I cannot be saved after all.

 

Then I see her. She is in front of me again. I paused in my search, prepared to give in to my sorrow when she's there once more. Her back is turned. I catch a faint scent. Her hair. It always smelled of flowers. I extend my hand, calling out her name. My voice is weak, so I cry out, dumping every last ounce of my energy into my words of desperation.

 

Please help me, I plead. Please care about me. Please save me. Please...

 

My fingertips brush her own. I feel joy. Salvation finds me... but only for a few shallow moments. She moves away. I am lost again. I cannot breathe. I must follow, I remind myself. I chase with heavy legs, with a heavier heart. I must. I must.

 

Will I ever catch her? Will I have the strength to keep chasing her another day? Another hour? Another minute? Another single step? And if I catch her, will she accept me? Or will she shun me like I've always feared?

 

I don't know.