Cael has a reclining armchair. It is peacock blue and comfortable. He has his blues, the chair holds him and his blues comfortably. It is like a cupholder for the soul, and for his body. This chair is special for him, and he doesn't particularly like people sitting on it, except for himself and his ghost; ghosts of his old feelings, lost emotions, his younger self; his helpless love. It holds everything he needs held. The chair feels like a hug, warm, with some sort of underlying understanding built into the fabric. It is an understanding chair, accommodating chair. It accommodates him in a way his former partner didn't.
The chair still have indents of him and his ex. It is a mystery how his ex, Lexi, managed to put her dents on the cushions; because she never even saw this chair. Cael bought it after he got his new place. It was his first major luxury purchase after he left home.
Cael looks outside through his windows, he has amazing views of the city; and the mountains beyond the city. He tells himself, he has every material thing he can ask for. And yet, he enters his home with an unfamiliar heaviness; he has been carefully collecting for months now. It is growing inside him like a creeper vine, intertwining with his veins and nerves. He feels alive with its presence; heavy and alive. It is not a pleasant feeling. It is better than how he used to feel without the creeper vine, for sure. He decides to give it a name. Sorrel. Sorrel lives a parallel life with Cael, taking up the same space but with different emotions, an entirely different existence; and experiences that Cael could never have access to without Sorrel. It is a strange and intimate relationship; one that he never expected.
Before Sorrel arrived, Cael forgot how to feel. He learned to tuck away his emotions deep within a closet he had long forgotten; locked and out of sight. But when Cael escaped his former life, left Lexi, left his carefully curated home, he only had his work backpack and something else - a subdued sense of loss, sorrow and escape - seeds of Sorrel maybe.
Cael picks up his cup of smoking hot cup of tea. He holds a beautiful purple handmade cup he got from a art fair. I has an uneven shape, like tinty tiles got together to become a cup. He holds the cup the same way the couch holds him. A warm, comfy, soothing hold and the cup embraces him back with its elegant aroma. His peacock chair dosn't have a cup holder built in, it only has Cael holder. So, he has to hold the cup carefully with his two hands when his chair swings. He takes a sip, and forgets about Sorrel, for the moment.
Cael enters his sporty grand coupé. Its seats are lowered, grounded, and shaped excitingly. He always feels excited when he is in this car — even in bad traffic, he can just enjoy himself. Especially because he doesn't have Lexi exhibiting constant displeasure and nagging. Memories of her are left in the other black sedan. The old car has old memories, good ones and bad ones. But definitely has a lot of Lexi. So, he doesn't touch that car much.
Cael carries a backpack with two cameras, a few lenses and a laptop, his troop for rides like this, when there is no destination, except for where he starts from, his temporary penthouse accommodation. He still walks into the car with enough enthusiasm. He has his cameras, headphones and music. It is always nice just roaming around and occasionally waltzing into random cafes, sipping some barely caffeinated milk-based drink and observing people. Sometimes, he just walks into old town bookstores and vintage shops, strongly fighting his urges to buy yet another cool thing. Sorrel usually doesn't join him on such trips, except when it sneaks in.
It is seven hours since the sun crossed overhead, which means most coffee places are closed, bars are opening though. Bars bar fun. Bars also bar sorrow, Sorrel. Sun still has an hour's worth of burning to do, so Cael can just roam, with some music on. But he definitely wants some caffeine. Such a difficult dilemma. "Life is very difficult" - Cael tells himself.
Cael pushes the next track button, and an old familiar track starts playing. He has a rule, you never skip "Castle of Glass" and you must play it twice in a row. He has the same rule for a few other tracks, like Fragile by Sting. This track was also one of Lexi's favorites. So, Chester B. sings Lexi into the sound cave of Cael's soul. Sorrel sneaks in. Sorrel has its own emotions, both heavy and joyful. Sorrel enjoys the soothing song. Cael lets Sorrel do its things, without paying much attention to it. But he knows, Sorrel is coming with its exquisite platter in a bit. The glass castle breaks into pieces, just like the teardrops rained once from the tearcave of Cael. One more time and then some other track. Cael tells himself, maybe Usher's Yeah will be good.
He waits. Sorrel presents its first kick from the platter, Cael sighs, takes a deep breath and wishes he had lead instead of blood in his veins - that will numb the feelings, will it not?
Cael stares outside, his eyes are getting blurred. Nostrils expanding and breaths are getting heavier. He feels a void that never existed - it is a very strange feeling. He picks up his phone, opens Instagram, time to watch some reels and send a very curated subset to his friends.