Midnight Thoughts

You cannot die of grief, though it feels as if you can.

A heart does not actually break, though sometimes your chest aches as if it is breaking. Grief dims with time. It is the way of things. There comes a day when you smile again, and you feel like a traitor.

How dare I feel happy.

How dare I be glad in a world where my ex-boyfriend is no more.

And then you cry fresh tears, because you do not miss him as much as you once did, and giving up your grief is another kind of death.

It’s a whole new kind of death…

And afterwards… if you’re lucky enough to survive, you learn to live and love again.

Snap shots of a tear-stained face

In the unchartable depths behind my eyes, wheels of colour dance, blown by some strange wind that would chill you to the marrow to feel it.

Images - snap shots - of things that have been or have yet to be flicker in and out in no discernable order. Strands of music buzz through the air like living rays of light; illuminating everything around them in a multitude of yellows and blues. Beams of the purest colours shine down from above, as if rent asunder by a giant diamond prism.

Some would look at this and see only chaos and madness. I look at this and see beauty that is wild and free, untamed by chisel or lute, paper or canvass. This purity inspires me. It gives me the strength to perservere.

I capture small portions of this to show others what I have seen, but I know not if my efforts are in vain.

Can you hear the mystery calling to you? Can you reach out and touch it, calling it to yourself, letting it envelop you and help you to find your way?

Maybe I'll be stuck like this forever, until my tears wear my body away like the ocean does a mountain. Until the darkness overcomes my heart and snuffs me out like a candle's pale flame, with a single gust of icy wind. Until my loneliness tears me in two and my anger consumes me like burning wood, leaving only ashes of what was before, a scant reminder of a ruined life. I burn even now. I burn with indecision.

Should I give up this fight that will eventually lead me to my downfall, or should I keep up the fight and endure the pain as a consequence?

Maybe some day I will find a way out of my personal darkness, my personal hell, but for now... now I will put on my mask and continue on with my back straight and my head up. I have nothing to fear but fear itself; which I won't let bother me. To be afraid of fear is a pointless waste of time, and I need all that I can find. Fear is just the unknown. Logical thinking dispels the gloom.

Maybe some day I will be able to tell my friends how much I truly need them and how much I rely on them being there for me. Maybe some day I can rejoin my friends in my make-believe world, and this one, to play on the green grass all day long.

Maybe some day I'll find the mysterious antidote that will clear this vicious poison from my senses and I can return home with a light heart and I won't have to hide my tear-stained face from the world any more.

Maybe some day I'll be free at last.

Despite everything, life goes on. Another silver tear rolls down my face in the lengthening silence.

Yes.

Life goes on.

When the tears are not enough...

Tears flow from my eyes in little misguided river paths…

Maybe if I had only been able to hug you once more, or hold your hand as you left. Maybe then this wouldn’t hurt so much.

Maybe then I would be able to understand why I am left here alone.

It was once said, “Who do you turn to when the one who can stop your tears is the one who is making you cry?”

I wish they had found an answer…

Maybe then losing you would be easier for me to deal with.

But the thought of life without you is too painful to bear…

It actually hurts…

Like a cut on my skin, only the cut is much deeper…

It’s on my heart.