Darkness and Co.

The darkness has always had a good way of sneaking so many other things in with it.  I suppose that’s why so many make a good friend of the dark, because if you wan’t to get somewhere without being noticed, she’ll more than likely oblige if the price is right.  

That’s just it though… The price is what matters, and some of us are willing to give up the very thing the rest of us could never dream putting on the line.  So we continue our casual dance of misunderstanding, our inability to try and see through the stains on the glass we’ve left after pounding our hands on it all night trying to get the others attention.  We let the rhythm of this awful dance take us up in its arms and rock us two and fro, after all it is just so easy to take it’s hand and give up.  Giving up has always been the easy part, and I’ve never been one to make things easy on myself.  

I suppose that’s why I am so surprised.  I thought that the only person more stubborn than me was going to be you, and that even when I was at my wits end, you’d be the one grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the creep of this deadly night, the one that wants so desperately to bring me back to her dance of floor.  The shock of it hit me as soon as I reached out my hand, only to realize that yours wasn’t there, and for the first time, it sunk in that I was going to fall, and you would not be there to catch me.  That hurt more than the sudden stop at the end.

It starts with a sting, a ringing, a complete sense of disorientation that slowly gives away to a marching band of terrible pain, screaming its way through every ounce of your body until you are certain there is no escaping its song.  Crumpled, fractured, I lay there realizing not that my body is broken, but despite the most brutal pain and a promise of days to come where I know nothing else, I still can’t stop myself from asking “where were you?”…  

There is no question that is harder to ask than this one, because there just isn’t an answer, and even if there were, it is so far beyond our reach that we have better things to hope for in our lives than ever finding what it might be.  I’ve never been ok with having a question that I was told I had to give up on, that I had to walk away and just forget I ever asked.  Doing so is an injustice that I do not bear lightly, and I struggle and hurt myself with the fact that I even try to bear it at all.