All the years combine, they melt into a dream A broken angel sings from a guitar... In the end there's just a song, comes crying like the wind through all the broken dreams and vanished years...
It all rolls into one, and nothing comes for free There's nothing you can hold, for very long And when you hear that song, come crying like the wind it seems like all this life was just a dream.
There are times in my life where I feel cheated that things didn't go the way they should have gone. Sometimes the sadness fills me and I don't think of anything else but the regrets of the past and ponder endlessly what life could have been like.
Despite the flaws that were obvious, nonetheless he made me feel special, alive and yet, strangely depleted. Then one day the bubble exploded and I swear still to this day the explosion could be seen from space. The pain I feel is frequently still so raw regardless of the number of years since. Those years have tempered somewhat my emotions, as I struggle to recall the sounds of his footfalls, the way he smelled, his handwriting and even his voice. And yet other times I see him so clearly, his face, his body, and everything he was to me.
Once in a great while when I remember, it's as though I can feel him--his arms enclosing me like a warm blanket and making me feel safe. Ah! Maybe it's the safe feeling that I so crave as my mind drifts into a waking dream...
Standing still for a moment, she looks behind her at the well-worn path that seemingly stretches on forever. Turning her attention to what lies ahead, she continues walking. She knows this path, she’s been on it for many years, traveling back and forth, she knows every hill and valley, the twists and turns and she understands the terrain. There is a comfort in that knowing, but she also understands the path leads in but one direction, not to a fork in the road, but to a cliff that she knows she must jump from. Several times in her life she’s traveled down this path, at first invigorated by the challenge, because it seemed very different from the last path she was on. The truth was there is little difference between the two; she knows that now. She walks along, far from where she started, but still reaching, sometimes quickly, the same place and there she sits on the edge pondering what if anything to do. She lies on her belly on the edge, gazing downward at the slick slope, and it reminds her that if she jumps she can’t climb back to this safe spot. She knows down below there is water and that it’s deep enough, so that she wouldn’t die from the fall; this is not about death, she reminds herself, it’s about the unknown. The unknown is close by at the bottom, where a she can see a new path, and that's what she fears.
Perhaps she’s feeling too old for this type of adventure, but no that’s not right, it’s about fear and always has been. A man she loved, once explained to her that she shouldn’t fear that path, because, he explained, it meant that others had been there before her and she wouldn’t be alone. Naturally, he promised to be by her side, but as she turns her head to look for him, he’s not there, it’s not by choice she reminds herself, he had gotten ill and passed away, and now it’s up to her to decide.
Clearing my mind from the fog, I have to ask myself why do I always revert to the past when my life seems to spin out of control? Why can't I just release my anger that I feel at times and bury it deep in the ground? Of course, these questions are totally rhetorical and have no answer...at least none that I want to hear. Darkness lingers, surrounding me with its cloak but I no longer fear it, but instead welcome the quiet, introspection that it brings.
I suppose it's time for all things to pass. I can no longer hold onto what could have been but never will be. I need to redirect my energy and refocus on the future. Even now as I type this I feel the negative engeries that fueled the words dissolving, like granulars of salt in a glass of warm water.
Still only one real question remains...
Should I jump?