Not long did it take for the Golden shield, worn by this mistress of mystery to begin to protect me as well. The helium balloon was neither hers nor mine. It simply was. That's all we could've ever hoped it to be. This dusty snow globe of a world I reside in stayed just as dusty as always, yet I saw less of it— or rather felt less of it I suppose. This angelic figure of a woman and I had never separated since that day. All in all the activities of my day continued the same as before. However the mundane ambiance had evaporated now that I can share it with someone. Still, her high-stapled cheek bones and perfected bits of calcium make me uneasy. Whatever disease gives it to these balloon wielding miracles must be contagious. With her at my side she's basically sewn my corners to the top. She said it would be a lot harder to break than the staples the balloon gave her. As the time we spent together grew so did the gravitational force of those charismatic eyes she wore. They weren't Perfect, in fact it may have been her one and only imperfection, but she never pretended like they were either. That has potentially always been the most intriguing fact about her. A human able to stay completely honest and still wear a halo of hair unlike any others.
She stuck out like a sore thumb. At least next to me anyways. As we walked the desolate avenues it looked as though we were an unmatched pair with our balloon as some adopted bastard of a child. When in fact neither of us could begin to see such a future. She just knew I'd never have the confidence to hold such an immense privilege in my hands without the warmth of hers helping me. We often had our fair share of stares and scowls from the creature like humanoids nested near the sewage drains. She never paid mind to them. I suppose I may have cared too much, even if I used to know them. They were different now. Not a single light shone except for her during all hours of the day. Like a spontaneously lit candle willing to sacrifice everything for a plebian whom of which certainly didn't deserve it. The light she emitted was a window into a previously unperceivable world with no dust at all.
When we were by our lonesome that window would widen to the fullest. In that window, was a world whose clouds only made shapes of animals, something no one has seen for years— at least... Not where I'm from. There was the same heap of snow but without the suffocation that comes with it. A world where the sun was always generously trading with the moon. This is where the balloons came from.
The window closes to her scolding me. I had no idea that I could get lost in someone's eyes so easily. She seldom spoke and whenever she did all I could ever hear was an angelic siren of reassurance that she'll never let this balloon go. I believe her. I felt drowned in euphoria. A type of feeling you only experience a few times in your life. The feeling of your lungs filling with helium lifting up what had been thought to be a useless soul. A special warmth in the upper-left sector of your ribcage I had never knew existed until she came along. A feeling so beautifully grotesque that if I were to breathe my last breath in those moments that breath would have a special enchantment to it that only she could form out of nothingness. She had taught me a new word as well, it must of been for describing her. I believe it was called "Perfe—"
After removing myself from this baptism of happiness she so instilled, I return to the scolding. Apparently it had been my turn for over 5 minutes; we were playing chess. I was godawful at the game; goddamn was she good at it. I would just sit and arrange all the little figurines as though I was actually attempting to storm a castle. In my head the pawns were going to flank the side entrance, like the surprise of her arrival. I personally thought bishops were useless, just out of experience, forgetting it was a board game. The rest of the pieces just seemed to have arbitrary limitations. Like my own. Except for the Queen of course. The most powerful piece on the board. It had become the embodiment of her. All her pieces were golden, lined with red threads. Mine were dust ridden. Worn out, old, and obviously replaceable. Throughout the game the balloon sat and watched. Noiseless like a traumatized child; observing me endlessly. Watching me get lost in the thought and study of what happiness actually feels like. Subconsciously I was making each move take a little longer in hopes that maybe the window would stay open.
"Checkmate" she says.
I had almost intentionally put myself in a corner of the board, to make my rusted king suffer less. She decided to drag on his suffering with her two beautiful rooks. Somehow she knew how to amuse me. My face had sewn it's self upwards. The muscles twitched and creaked as this pleasurable roar of noise erupted from my vocal chords. Hers was just the same. It was probably the loudest thing she's done. Seeing her do that caused my face to clench so tight the ends of my eyes crinkled. She seemed to enjoy that.
It grew to be late. The evening was near indescribable. I lay awake too full of adrenaline as the balloon separated her and I across the room. I was scared to fall asleep, I still am, because reality had become far greater than my dreams ever have.
I roll over just to stare into the balloon as I drift off with my helium filled lungs.
"This was the hope I had always Dreamt of".
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