To My Dearest Love,
Forgive me if I don’t know where to begin – I’m afraid my thoughts and feelings fall and scatter before me like a summer rain; I welcome and observe with a sense of melancholy what lays before me, but try as I might, I cannot catch them all. I suppose if I might run or dance through them, I may catch more, but in this moment, I need to stand back and observe my thoughts, my feelings, and the sensations that occur. Unlike most, I welcome the storm – I do not fear it, but I suppose you knew this about me already.
Since you’ve set sail for the sea, twice now I’ve attempted too swim, twice now I’ve laced my life with death, twice now I’ve drowned, and twice now I’ve washed ashore to the starting point on the sands below the precipice where we built our home.Be it Odin or Poseidon curse or vengeance towards a goddess who could rival the Gods, I know not, but what I do know is that the emptiness consumes me, the longing embraces me, and this wretched turmoil has been forever immortalized by sonnets and prayers. Of all I’ve had to carry, being the burden barer that I am, this is the one that sits like a boulder within my chest. I imagine the sea beside our home regularly supplied by the tears I’ve shed.. watching… waiting… my blessing is the location that I’m in for the beauty is still distracting.
I’ve slept on the shores again. As I awoke I caught the sun shining through the cracks of dark clouds, promising the warmth of a new dawn, a new hope, and a new life. The vibrancy of blue casts a spell on this land, enchanting all out of it’s slumber; two doves of white were soaring overhead, one carrying an olive branch… who knew this prison could be so beautiful? The symbolism of the branch however is not lost on me, for perhaps, just perhaps, those doves were messengers of hope. I go now to set the table for two, pray chance you should surprise me at the table.
Evening of Night 2:
My love, I wish you could watch the sun set before me over the ocean – hues of red, and gold, and purples mix into the realm of twilight. Legend has it that demons come pouring forth about this time to lace the world with sorrow and suffering, but I refuse to believe it.
I listened to the pastors sermon today; it was a message of what faith can do if we can just believe. A family had nothing to eat for the holiday of Noel, and the parents had told the children that a feast would come. The children then countered ” but we have not set the table, if we believe that food will come and have faith that God will deliver, then we must set the table.” The rest of the logistics escape me, but someone remembered this family, and delivered a feast for 5 by the afternoon. The irony of this morning is not lost on me, and indeed, the many mornings before… but it becomes a painstaking process the moment I question why you are not here, but my faith so palatable. It was difficult to clear the table and dispose the food… there is something sacred about your chair, as if your aura should have been here. I can’t tell if it brought me comfort or grief, but this home has become a temple for you that I worship from. Oh, how I long to have you near me.
I can’t tell for the life of me if it is morning or night – it’s too dark to know for certain. I just woke up dripping in sweat and tears, the salt of my wound mixing with the salt of the sea. I must calm myself… I must get this emotion out of me. The terror of the night enveloping me in the very same darkness that would hypnotize most to slumber, but instead, the darkness of time betrays me. The scent of you is fading from these sheets of ours, and the longing comes back with a vengeance.
The dream… I must get these fragments down… there was you, maybe 10 years ago, standing above the rose hedges at your grandmothers estate in Darbishire; the sight of you was breathtaking and overwhelming, surpassing the handsome features the country has to offer.I could feel the tears as they pricked against my eyes, and I ran to you, as fast as I could, feeling each step getting harder and heavier with each passing stride… but I made it.Nestled in your warm embrace, the maelstrom of emotions breaks free, and I cry into your chest, banging my fist against you as a child might do.You chuckle, most likely amused by my reaction, and simply hold me, kissing my head on occasion, waiting for my tears to subside. Slowly, things fade away with my eyes closed nestled in your embrace… how much time has passed… seconds… minutes… hours… then panic grips me.
“Shit!” I open my eyes while and find myself plummeting to my knees…. you’re gone, and suddenly I find myself in an ancient forest that hasn’t touched the light of day or the silhouette of the moon for centuries. There’s something in here that threatens my very existence, and I know my life is on the line. Briefly assessing, the woods are somehow gradient mixtures of black and gray with no discernible source of light – dust seems to cover everything, and I’m not sure how any of this is possible. Not a sound exists… no sound is capable of existing here… no wind… no movement… it’s terrifying. There is no life other than the trees which somehow maintain enough energy to block anything from entering this place… or leaving. “I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here…”
Suddenly I am running, unable to contain the panic; I know I’m running from something.The darkness closes in again, and the harder I run, the more painful it becomes, and the faster the darkness approaches…
It’s hard to breathe…
I jolt from my bed, screaming aloud.
>>>>>>>>>>>(Blah…. too much to write and edit. I’ll be fixing this later… yes I know it’s rough, but this is just copy pasta from my journal I keep in my room anyway.)