Author's Note: In light of the subject of the short and the happy news of the sequel, here is that "Happy Birthday" poem.


One

When first we met, you were small,

A softly sleeping little doll

Chubby hands, bright cheeks, red hair,

A neat picture you made there

Sweetness and calm quiet met gentle and mild

I thought you like me, one more docile child

Then an eye opened, just a peek

And through your face I heard you speak

"So this is the world! What sights, what sounds, what colors, what a start!"

Your eyes fell upon mine, filled with gaiety, laughter, and heart

Oh Anna, I was there to see your first smile, a merry grin

And soon I found growing on my own lips its eager twin

I held my place, my breathless pose

Until your weary eyes did close

You slipped away, you stilled and slept

And up to your side I crept

I touched your hand; you held mine

As tight as one could, a wondrous sign

Of blessings, not curses, sent from above

And Anna…

That day, I fell in love.


Three

You totter, you wobble, your legs fail

Have no fear! I'll catch you, I'll keep you, I'll save you

Right you, guide you, kiss you when you wail

Big sister is here; stand on my feet, we'll walk true

Shaky steps? No longer. Look at us fly!

You'll learn to run, you'll yearn to run

And we'll be little terrors, you and I

The world is ours, for play, for fun

Schemes and dreams we'll have, whispers at night

Our adventures, waiting for flight

Nothing will break us, nothing will come between

You, my little princess, and I, your loving queen.


Five

Oh…oh God, Anna…I…

I am so, so sorry.


Seven

A year passes. Two.

What is another year?

A year is nothing more than a moment,

A flutter of a bird's wing

The blink of an eye

A year is over in a second

It flashes into and out of being

Who knows it was even here?

A year is a small slice of oblivion

No longer than a breath

It hardly exists

What is another year?

Nothing more than an eternity,

When without you.


Nine

One more year.

Still, I am here, and you are there.

Still, I turn away, I turn my back on you, I hide these hands from your sight.

Still, I stay within these four walls that creep ever closer.

Still, I do nothing and believe I do everything; everything, except live.

Still, I am growing colder, quieter, feeble.

The light sputters against the wind. I have no one to tend to it. My hands would snuff it out.

The darkness is my home, solitude my house, isolation my realm.

And as I sit beside my two companions,

With shame shrieking at my right,

And guilt sniveling on my left,

I long for a third.


Eleven

Marks on the doorway, inching up

New shoes, new dresses, new you

Same smiling eyes, same hopeful knock, same sweet laughter

Hold tight to your heart! I have let mine fall

It lies at your feet, dashed to pieces

Each fracture lined with despair

Each one a stain, dripping upon the stitches that hold me together

When will they fail? When will I break?

Would you catch me?

I could not ask that of you.


Thirteen

Memories line the halls and stalk my footsteps

They poison me with happiness, beat me with joy

Felicity scars me, elation blinds me, delight cripples me

I barely make it back alive.

The door, the door, the blasted, blessed, vile sanctuary shuts them out, holds them at bay

They scream and cry and beg and moan to be let in oh please won't you let us in?

They wail, they howl, they sob.

And knock.

And knock.

And knock.


Fifteen

You wear black. I do not.

You stand alone. I do not.

You face death. I do not.

You are strength. You are courage. You are pride.

I am fear. I am cowardice. I am defeat.

I am alone.

A mountain is crushing me. A wire is choking me. A love is killing me.

You could leave. You could go. You could live.

But you do none of these things.

Instead, you do the most incredible, most powerful, most beautiful thing of all.

You stay.


Seventeen

A life held back.

Is it mine or yours?

A lifetime on one side of the door.

Which was better off?

The taste of happiness.

Do you remember it?

Of course not. I have stolen even that from you.

Would you want to?

"Wouldn't you?"

I cannot answer that.


Eighteen

The gates fall from their hinges

The ice seeps from the banks

The secrets scurry off into the shadows as the Sun rises when you stand

The world trembles at your feet as I look up and am blinded

Radiant, triumphant, alive

Your eyes, so much like a child's in the face of a woman, burn away the fear

Your hands, small and warm and shaking with power, cover the shame

Your smile

Anna, your smile

I remember your smile

I remember everything

It swirls inside of me, every memory, every look, every emotion and need and regret and desire

I am a storm that twists and contorts on the point of a pin, tighter and tighter,

A vortex that careens in place,

A widening gyre that threatens to send me spinning off into the darkness,

A body torn into fluttering shreds,

A madness that burns with the desire to know why, why Anna?

And you speak

"I love you."

And I am whole.


Nineteen

Happy birthday, Anna!

It's perfect, like you: no words could suffice

My pen set aside, I am ready for life

No more will I wait, no more will I pine,

Not when your heart, at last, lies with mine.

The door is open, and we are free

My life lies ahead.

Come share it with me?