ON A ROCK, ALONE

With everything going on in the world and with the Dirty Dancing remake still out there, allow me to apologise for my sad soliloquy today. I know every heart carries its burdens.

For me, this day was colored blue by the sabotaging marriage of a vivid dream and a lifetime of loss. I’ve lost all the people I love most. Friends, my love, my grandparents, my parents…all have left in the shortest and illest of times.

On a day to day basis, these losses no longer suffocate me. If you have recently suffered the heartache of loss, take comfort in the fact that while Time does not really make loss better, it makes it easier. One fine morning…years after your heart was ripped out…you’ll awake and find that memories of your loved one no longer make you fall apart. It merely warms you with gratitude that such a lovely creature was part of your life for a while.

But there are days like today – even after years of recovery – in which you get too little sleep and the forces of ill rest and remembrance forge powers to shove you off a cliff.

I haven’t been sleeping for the past few nights. Last night was no different and it was only around 4am that I managed to drift off to Dreamland where a clear and vivid dream of my mother stirred trouble in my subconscious. Nothing particularly exciting or daring happened in my dream. My mum and I just sat across from each other in comfy chairs and…chatted. We chatted that chat that you chat when you both have vested and significant interests in your life.

The lazy but persistent complaints of a thirsty cat awoke me around 5am. As my mind came rushing to the forefront of awakeness, so did almost overwhelming sadness.

I realised in that moment how completely I’ve turned into myself. The freedom and luxury of conversing with someone about my life in all its depths and disgusting-ness is a sensation I last experienced when my mother was alive. She was the last to leave me, and since her departure I’ve kept my inner operations largely to myself.

And today, with the weight of exhaustion aggravating my every sense of sorrow, I feel like the sole figure on a small little planet, wandering through life alone…

The story of the Little Prince is a charming and unforgettable story by Antione de Saint-Exupery.
Image obtained from: http://www.amazon.co.uk

Years of experience has taught me that this despair does not last beyond a few days. Tomorrow the flow of grief will start to dissipate again and by Sunday my motor will run at high reps per minute. But tonight…tonight I wrestle the reminder that I have some life still to live…and it will be done alone.

I think I’ll enjoy a chococino tonight.

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