“A memory is much alike the waves of an ocean, in recession. And, when they recede from your feet, they’ll return, to throw tiny droplets as high as your nostrils, so you’ll breathe in whatever scent they have always come to you across. Whether they are sweet or bitter, you cannot forget.”– Modern Romanticism
What I would do to forget the tragedy that folded my life over grief, over a lost love, over the pain still current. My life moves as the day descends into night, and I feel.
I feel what should have been cleansed.
I was in love, only for it to drop as quickly as a stone tossed into a lake. It disappeared without it ever beginning. The dream vanished, was crushed, before it ever begun. And all I have is my tears left to drink.
I had wanted my pain to be erased.
It will not be erased, as I expected.
There is no one to blame.
And I wonder, is this the time to blame God?
It should be the reason why anyone would blame anything unseen. Anything that is unseen, is always received with blame. The question of “Why weren’t you ever there for me?” is thrown at God’s lap, because we expected love to be practical in its healing, when love is never practical.
It is the same question that we may throw at anyone. Their presence was instead, an absence, and now they have been offered attention, when it is too late.
Unseen, that was love. Not given, that was love. Not fulfilled, that was love. An emotion I felt, though did not ever see bloom.
To blame, is never something I must do. How could I blame God, or love, or any loved one, who was never there for me?
She was, and still is, but is no longer alive in my heart. I now only remember her. Loneliness is now a degree of suffering I have committed myself to, and I have married it, instead of her.
And what I would do to be ignorant of it all.
The pain simply will not cease. It is my closest neighbor…
…and my closest rival.