Prologue
He didn’t know her name, or where she came from or what her life was like. He knew but two things about her – she held the sky captive in her eyes, and he loved her hopelessly, deeply, endlessly.
There was once a man who was on fire and didn’t know how to burn it out. There were flames within him that made him feel like withering away, that made his blood turn to dry sand and his heart morph into an hourglass.
Until the day he fell in love with the flame who could soothe his own.
His name was Ray Cartwright, and he was a walking mess well-kept together. He guessed he believed in love of some sorts, but not that much.
Until the day he fell in love with a phantom.
He didn’t know her name, or where she came from or what her life was like. He knew but two things about her – she held the sky captive in her eyes, and he loved her hopelessly, deeply, endlessly.
“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head)
God toppled from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”
Sylvia Plath
