Beyond the Curtain.

My mentor never let me down. It was all so trivial and yet he seemed to understand they were important. This was the biggest loss, the most excruciating pain. It was the moment of truth. I was assured that he would out do himself and miraculously turn things around. Slowly I realized it was the mentor who was lost.

Silence followed. It turned deafening.

Loneliness is a twine that fastens with rapidity. It beats the senses out and drills a numbness in. Ironically the numbness that can be felt. A numbness that spreads and grips so tightly it hurts. It squeezes out energy and yet constricts it. You choke and it never stops.

Proud to be called strong? Or crumbled to be so less understood? I haven’t made up my mind. I close my eyes and there is a storm blowing at me. It whips my face till my flesh tingles. Its grief I presume. Could emotions cause physical ache? Why wasn’t I told so?

Ignorant and I do not call it bliss. I do not call it traumatic either. It is just a state of being. It’s self- realization. Its acceptance. So do I call myself ignorant any longer? After all how many could say they have sensed and touched the deepest of emotions? Not that it is a choice when its thrust on you when you want it the least.

Walk through the curtain of grief and you are confronted with choices. Choices that cannot be had and do not exist. Yet you insist on choosing. It involves either wistfully denying reality and planning again or staying where you are and deciding what you want. Time for permutations and combinations again because I insist I want a prelude of both rides before I choose my wagon.

I walk down the brightly lit yet strangely grim hallway. Everything is squeaky clean. I choose there would be no blood this time. I decide the only dilemma would be who gets to see him first, his dad or me. We decide to enter together. Oh there he is! I can hear his voice. His laugh. He is trying to compose me. Yes! I’m yet again the princess.

No I can’t do it anymore. I’ve lost the power to dream. This is not the wagon I choose.

Back behind the curtain as it bellows silently. The chosen wagon awaits. I climb in. Its cold. Its small. Its claustrophobic. Its not comforting. Why is it not? I chose to be here….. No I did not! I simply weighed out options. Restless they called me. I’ll prove them wrong. I’ll wait with patience. I know it will all come back and I am not done celebrating my relationship. I tasted it and it was divine. It belongs to me. It awaits me.

Patience is not soothing. The curtain lashes my face as the air gets stormy. Its all coming back. These are choices I never had! The storm gets darker. I plunge into darkness. How dark can dark get. It continues to surprise me. I recall I was asked to look for a light. I see it. No thats my tear glinting. But what is causing it to glint? After all I’m crouching in darkness. Turmoil and grief again. In newer dimensions.