„When there was a thunder storm?“
I asked when my witch was happy when I thought that I could never be happy again.
„When my violet clouds were cooked“, she giggles over my shoulder.
This was one of the most difficult questions for me. What would happiness look like in a time so far away? Could I even grasp that?
For a while then, I saw my witch as this unseen pretty face that was scarred by history. I saw pretty, round eyes, but with shadows underneath, and strands of hair that could be playful, but actually only escaped the ribbon by accident.
I saw her in a dirty gown ripped apart, with hair cut short growing back like a mess. I saw her lose everything. I saw her standing out on a hill in the early hours with the sky just so touched in violet, and she was falling down to her knees. I saw her with emotions that were more of a physical pain with no remedy.
At this point, my witch clears her throat politely.
Yes, I‘ll have to admit that I saw her like that because that‘s a view I had on life. No it‘s one I have on life. I always see the darkness, the potential disaster, the end of everything that so far has spread nothing but joy.
„It‘s only because I have experienced so much of that“, I defend myself in front of my witch, who in her daydream is seductively leaning on a grand piano … Yea, sorry for only having a small and electrical one.
„So have I, apparently“, my witch responds with a look onto my notes open on my desk.
There were moments when I was not sure why her tale was even worth telling. Was it just an unhappy story to make people eat chocolate and cry? When I took a class about historical movies, I read a lot about these kinds of movies, made for girls to have their wet and winy afternoons.
„Who got wet?“, my witch giggles, and I throw a piece of chocolate at her.
By now, I know that the witching novel is not going to be like that, because I think I have found an ending for her that actually isn‘t one. I don‘t want to give away too much, since I still hope for a traditional publisher to eventually fall in love with my odd little novel I am writing.
All I know is that I finally understood what „after sadness comes weirdness“ means for her. And honestly, after all the drama I am creating right now, I can‘t wait to show you all what kind of mayhem my witch will be up to in the end. In the end that is not really an ending. After I wrote her through all of the known and more popular stages of life. After she was a daughter, and a wife, and maybe a mother (not gonna spoil that bit), and a lover, and a lonely weirdo … Yes, there is always a next step, until it‘s death.
As long as we survive.
Recently, I watched the movie „Frances Ha“ with a friend, and I enjoyed it. It had such a soft giggle in the closure of every scene. Having this perspective on life must be truly amazing, and I enjoyed diving into it for two hours or so.
But I also realized that I am not really in the right mind set for that. For me, things are always a bit rough, and always a bit painful. I got used to so much physical and emotional pain before I even knew those words, it‘s not really possible to forget that anymore.
So, the path to happiness for me and my witch will be a lot weirder, and a lot more odd and extreme here and there. We can‘t have the light version of a giggle as a closure, but the more absurd or even obscene one. And we are getting used to it!
“The violet clouds are ready”, Layla announces.
And as my cat buries herself deeper within the pillows on my bed, the thunder storm finally starts.
Mistress witch writes 