What good is love if it couldn't manifest itself anymore? When it becomes an object sitting on a cluttered table in a corner for far too many years. It effectively seizes to exist. An object your gaze eliminates from the scene. An object which couldn't be found even if one is staring straight at it. An idea hidden in plain sight. The mundane, the uneventful. Only noticeable in its absence.
Then it is gone. It leaves. It is taken away. A curious event for something that had already seized to exist. The void suddenly becomes a new element to contend with. The mind jolts awake with the reality of change, still unaware of what it might be. Love, as it once was, will be felt once again.
The voids you left inside me are gigantic caverns. Formed, as if by a supernova in the heart of an infinitely massive planet. Their walls are lined with scars and crevices; imprints of our memories. Jagged remnants of a soul wrenched, torn apart from another. Sometimes I climb a mountain inside of me. I ascend a charred and blackened slope in a cold dead night. As I scale the highest edge I see the gaping mouth of my void. I stand at the edge and peer inside of the unending darkness.
An impossible greatness. Storms abound. Lightening infested.
Tendrils of dark grey fog beckon me inside. Gales laced with your scent threaten to unsteady my feet. I know what's inside it. I know how it would feel if I go in. Your smiles will surround me. Your smells will envelop my senses. As I hurtle down the never ending fall I will relive all the moments that now seem lost. I will be surrounded in an immense pleasure by all my pains. But even as the temptation to jump mounts I stay on the edge. I marvel at the force which created such an expanse. I look down in incredulity at the strength of the emotions I had felt. As I make my way down that mountain in the gloom of the cold eternal night; I am glad. To have felt with such impossible ferocity, I now realize, is a privilege. I am blessed to have been given the gift of pain, for it is just a void left by my happiness. I still have you around me in those brief moments, trapped in time somewhere in a different dimension and universe.
Then is it better to be happy and not know it or be devoid of it and understand and remember exactly what happiness was?
Must one have understood pain to acquire joy or can joy only be fully acquired and understood in pain alone?
My friend, I will carry you inside of me till the end of my days.
Then it is gone. It leaves. It is taken away. A curious event for something that had already seized to exist. The void suddenly becomes a new element to contend with. The mind jolts awake with the reality of change, still unaware of what it might be. Love, as it once was, will be felt once again.
The voids you left inside me are gigantic caverns. Formed, as if by a supernova in the heart of an infinitely massive planet. Their walls are lined with scars and crevices; imprints of our memories. Jagged remnants of a soul wrenched, torn apart from another. Sometimes I climb a mountain inside of me. I ascend a charred and blackened slope in a cold dead night. As I scale the highest edge I see the gaping mouth of my void. I stand at the edge and peer inside of the unending darkness.
An impossible greatness. Storms abound. Lightening infested.
Tendrils of dark grey fog beckon me inside. Gales laced with your scent threaten to unsteady my feet. I know what's inside it. I know how it would feel if I go in. Your smiles will surround me. Your smells will envelop my senses. As I hurtle down the never ending fall I will relive all the moments that now seem lost. I will be surrounded in an immense pleasure by all my pains. But even as the temptation to jump mounts I stay on the edge. I marvel at the force which created such an expanse. I look down in incredulity at the strength of the emotions I had felt. As I make my way down that mountain in the gloom of the cold eternal night; I am glad. To have felt with such impossible ferocity, I now realize, is a privilege. I am blessed to have been given the gift of pain, for it is just a void left by my happiness. I still have you around me in those brief moments, trapped in time somewhere in a different dimension and universe.
Then is it better to be happy and not know it or be devoid of it and understand and remember exactly what happiness was?
Must one have understood pain to acquire joy or can joy only be fully acquired and understood in pain alone?
My friend, I will carry you inside of me till the end of my days.
