You sit, and stare. You stare at the television, and watch shows you could never repeat the content of. You read chapters of a book, but couldn’t recite a single word on any of those pages. You laugh, but you are not sure at what. You so want to give in, to give up, and you utter a prayer to whatever God you know to make it all go away. You need her to call you, to tell you that it will be alright…I’m just angry right now…I love you.
But nothing. You…I…me…just sit and stare at the nothingness that is around you. The emptiness in your heart suggests that all of this is wrong, that what is right is her talking to you and laughing with you. The hand in yours, the arm around your neck, the eyes staring into you in ecstatic joy are all you want to know. You want the rest of it, the argument, the points, the protestations of something you don’t even care about to just fucking disappear.
Yet it won’t. It never will.
The darkness Sheds me of the light And now I just cry…empty and alone.
No, it never will. It will haunt you like few other demons have. Had it not all felt so perfect in those moments of love this moment would not be so absent of hope. You can hear her voice in the back of your mind and you just wish you could cry. Yet you can’t even muster another tear. The front you put on to the world suggests you are fine, but the reality is that you are dark and you are cold. Love is the most painful experience in your world when it no longer applies to your present, when it has left you cold and dangling from a ledge you have no certainty of escaping.
So you dangle, and you stare, and you wish it could all be different.
She seems happy. You can take some solace in that. She has not found the darkness and is not sharing in the cold. You find a smile creeping from your lips at the thought, she is fine and will be. You would bear this cross for her if just to know that your final gift to her was joy. It’s all you ever wanted to give her, and even when you failed you wanted to do so much more. If this, the joy she has in finally being rid of you, is the final gift you provide then the pain itself is worth it.
The phone rings You jump, hoping… But alas you sink in disappointment.
Hope falls to the floor like broken glass. Shards of it cut at your skin on their way down, and you bleed clear, salty blood from the little nicks. You feel the pins-and-needles of where those shards of hope have scarred you, and sink into the floor further than the Earth would ordinarily allow. Even the Earth gives way to your grief, and you are grateful for Her not resisting you in this, your moment of despair.
It will get better…it has to.
The voice reminds me You’ve been here before And look at the gift you got for surviving.
It is here, now, that you live your moment of despair. True, gone is the light that once gave you such beauty, but alive in you is the desire that fuels who you are. In this moment you are sucking the dust of a hundred lifetimes as she leaves your life, but you will, someday, use those arms that have picked you up before to again respond to the calling. You will feel the strength in your shoulders return. You will know your heart beat again. You will come to your knees and your legs will do their job.
No, those eyes will not grace yours again. Those hands will not grasp for you, wanting and needing you ever again. Those lips will not breathe life into your soul. She has made her choice and you now must make yours. You are love, you are strength, you are the man someone will embrace. Yours is a soul someone will not be able to envision ever living without. The lessons you have learned will make you smile, and once again you will laugh in the dance of Divinity. You will heal, and you will know what it is to feel again. So bask in this, your moment of despair, and remember it wisely.
Never forget this moment even as you seek to never relive it again.