Emptiness seems to fill my world of late, again. Too many things about which I cannot be bothered but that keep popping into my life whether I like it or not. A constant list of names that harass my brain, and people who cannot mind their own business or rather have no control of their own lives trying to preach what others best do with theirs.
I am on a path of my own, having yet to discern my direction or destination.
The roller coaster ride of emotions, love and indifference; plateaus, screams and tiredness have taken the best of me. A pack of losers and a bunch of conniving liars..world is just a dark place all over again, and I am not even bothered lighting matches. Memory be my curse, and emotions be any woman’s fall. I am a victim of both, double jeopardy.
In a state of despair I head down memory lane, a collection of photos and voyages of far off lands. I miss the lanes of solitude and silence, and cabins, cheerful chatter of friends. I missed Marina who volunteers to stab a man with a folk for me, and Shehan the watchman of intruding snow walking in with my shoes and without his prior approval. I missed those woods and windows of winter, and the tropical heat within the cabin and my walks at midnight through the barking of an unseen dog by day time and heard as night falls.
Life has moved on, and I believe I had moved on. But clicks of the past, recall and remain of what was cherished and what sometimes keep rushing in, unexpected.
I tell him I want to go back, I want to be in a cabin. He says we should go, we spend the night talking, describing the past, places, people and hands..till depression strikes me and tears roll down my cheeks not to be noticed, not by him, nor anyone.
Run away to far far away..from emotions, anger and frustration. Pack and leave from the world I know to a world I wouldn’t know, would have to learn to know and would hopefully be indifferent to me, as I am to it.
He says he is telling the truth, and I try to believe him. But truth be relative. I don’t think I know much of relativity or of truth, or of lies, or anything else for that matter.
I submit to harsh winds of the past, the present and maybe the next winter..and await the summers when I might see some light and feel some warmth.