Love it seems, tends to come and then go. Sometimes it is fierce and consuming and deceiving, or maybe that's the wrong word. Maybe love is just always love, no matter how silly it feels afterward. After pushing it's way in, up, through, out and onward. Leaving me feeling embarrassed and ashamed that I believed it, molded it and made it into truth. My truth, even if only for a short while. But, the real truth, whatever that might be, comes crashing in and wakes me up, throws me under a bus, or shines a bright light in my eyes. Makes me see things for what they are(n't).
I keep grasping at the straws that this time aren't falling. I keep reaching for the door only to find that this time it's wide open. I keep going to the windows seeing if they still open - and they do. I don't feel a prisoner. I don't feel suspicious. I don't feel pressured or cramped or angry or scared or sorry or afraid. I keep checking - but it's just not there.
Strange, odd, empty and airy spaces that feel like they once contained something - something monumental - that was - but is no longer there. A large room with white walls, big bright windows with light flooding into the place. Brown hardwood floors, slightly dusty from what was there, now having been moved out. The dust is all that's left and even that is just a trace. The kind of place where you are sure that if you were to listen hard enough, you might be able to hear the voices that once occupied the space. Then you do listen, but all you end up hearing are the sounds of cars on the street below.
It's just gone - whatever it was. And now is the time to see it empty - empty and waiting to be filled with someones next - but not mine - not here. I just needed to see it and believe that it's gone and over. To say goodbye. To walk across the floors for the last time, hearing all the familiar creaks. Feel the light on my face now that the curtains have been removed. It was never anything but this - but a space - where a scene took place.
I whisper a little thank you in the warm sunshiny-ness. Reach for the door that opens with ease, and step out, closing it behind me. I now have space again or for the first time, that I have chosen - on the inside. That's what this odd feeling is. That's why I didn't recognize it. I didn't know what it was and it couldn't tell me. I had to find it on my own.
That's why she's here now. There's room for her to come in. To walk up to me and take my hand. She's letting me put my head on her broad shoulder and she speaks to me. A quiet, comforting, gentle heart that says, "Rest with me. Tomorrow you become new."
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1 comment:
hello, I was blog-hopping when I stumbled on your words. they see so warm and familiar. like i wrote something very similar sometime but now can't remember. so i just wanted to send a :) in return for the smile your post put on my face.
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