The Fabric of Our Souls

by K.M. Moronova

For the broken ones who are in need of something dark, morbid, and beautiful.

Whoever coined the phrase “sticks and stones” is an asshole, don’t you think? Words indeed hurt more than stones. Thanks for trying to gaslight me out of it though. It didn’t work.

My name is Wynn Coldfox. I'm twenty-six years old and I want to die.

Avoidance has always been my coping mechanism. If I don’t think about it, it doesn’t matter. My day goes on.

My mind is a plague that needs to be cured and people like me are damned to chase this mysterious elixir.

“You should wait… and it doesn’t have to be for anything specific. I’m just saying—wait for the weight of the world to pass. Wait until the tremors that wrack through your skull drift into the depths again. Wait until the sun rises, and the light makes you feel a little less pointless.”

“What if waiting doesn’t work?” I whisper. Liam smiles easily at me. His presence is like an eerie forest. I want to stay for a while and sit quietly in his dreary gravity. “You let me know and I’ll hold you until the darkness fades.”

She’s the image of heartache—and I want the pain she instills inside my heart forever.

“I think that’s your first.” “My first what?” Liam leans to look at my face. A glimmer spreads through his eyes as he murmurs, “Your first genuine smile.”

The few people that I call my friends are as sick as I am, and I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged somewhere more.

“Here’s your kiss, masochist.”

He’s beautiful. A fallen angel—a devil.

That’s when I first realized how cruel life could be. How easy it is to lose the love of my soul’s keepers. How easy I am to discard as useless.

It’s a feeling that’s as painful as it is freeing. When I’m emotionally detached, everything is easier, because nothing matters. Even if I were to die, it would not matter. But the second sorrow is able to burrow its way into my bones, I’m more melancholic about the defining moments in my life than I ever thought possible.

The fabric of our souls is thin—we’ve been wandering this world just to unite in this small corner of the universe. Our connection is frightening and enchanting all at once.

No one’s ever hugged me so desperately with their entire heart.

Your mind is a beautiful and dangerous thing, Wynn, sick as it may be. But your soul illuminates the world around you, setting all else ablaze with your inevitable anguish.”

I want him to always look at me this way. With warmth and need—like I truly am his cure.

She was made for me—not him.

“Can we stop spiraling? I want to numb your pain, Wynn. I want to be star-crossed lovers again.” I smile wearily. “Star-crossed lovers? You read too many romance novels.” He peeks up at me and gives me a boyish grin. “Only the ones I read on your Kindle while you sleep.”

“I love you, Wynn.” “You’ll lose your mind,” I say, pushing him back enough to look into his eyes as my lips curl into a sad smile. “You’ll lose your mind if you follow me into the dark, Liam.” “Already there, baby.”

“She’s special, Liam. I know you like her, but be careful. Her mind is her worst enemy and love might be too overbearing on fabric as thin as hers.”

“Hers is so beautifully torn that even wolves like us are drawn to it.”

I haven’t had a night like this in a long time. Why did it take me coming to a rehabilitation institute to finally find people like me? People who hurt and understand the same way I do. People I cherish more than anything

“The tattoo is for the three of us. It was just me and Lanston before, but you’re a part of our healing as well, so we decided to add you.”

“But you wouldn’t be Wynn Coldfox if your mind wasn’t such a dark, lovely, wicked thing.”

“I don’t think anyone in this world understands me more than you do, Lanston.” I rest my head on his chest and he caresses me delicately. His embrace is like being wrapped in a warm blanket under the stars. “But it will always be him, won’t it?” he whispers. I tighten my jaw and nod. “But you’ll always be a part of our cure.”

No one else has experienced a love like Liam’s. It is chaotic. It is pure. It is love in its simplest, most cathartic form.

“You wanted to die so they didn’t feel like they had to.”

“You’re mine too, Wynn. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Liam knows that; I think that’s the only reason he trusts me with you. My love for you two… It’s endless. Like a sea that just keeps lowering the depths to make more room for the life we three have ahead.”

“It was always supposed to be the three of us,” I say.

“You have to pull through, Wynn. You will always have my heart. Always”

“Not this time, baby. Go on ahead without me. I’ll see you two later.”

I was born with a bad heart—literally and figuratively. But you gave your heart to me, and because of you, I will live. Because of you, I will never take my life for granted ever again.

The three of us were the cure. In our darkest hours, in the darkest of nights, we are the light.

My wife, who’s loved me through the dark, the wicked, and the cruel. My child, who will know the stories of those who are no longer here. Those who came before him. And myself. I’ve learned to forgive myself. I’ve learned to love me.

“The Fabric of our Souls is thin and worn. We must be gentle and love tirelessly.”