Love, loss and chaos

Do you remember the date? I do. It was a dark day (or not) for me and a patient one for you. I was unhappy and masking my pain – like I always do. You were unhappy and forthcoming about it. I stayed up all night to fix the mess that I was in. You stayed up with me.

Grumbling. Teasing. Smiling. Laughing. Nudging. A rainbow of emotions.

I remember the links you sent; so typical of you. Videos, funny ones, were your famous escape route. We fought like we usually did, despite the videos. I don’t think I told you then that I had fallen for you.

But you knew. You mocked my resistance, laughed away my timidity and silently smiled in the cocky knowledge of it all. I sensed your impatience, waiting for me to come to terms with it. It would be long before I strung any words together affirming your assumptions. You threw a metaphorical party. It was more than wonderful.

I never told you this but the date stayed with me; long after you did. After all, it was the first time I acknowledged it. Even to myself.

I struggle now to reconcile the deep, love-filled memories (because they are worth remembering) with the emptiness of the current overwhelming feeling of loss. I know better than to dismiss it all. I know that hate or anger won’t help me right now. I impatiently wait to wrap my brain around the chaos. But this is all a lesson for me in patience, isn’t it? I don’t want to say it is a cruel one. I am tempted to rush into that narrative of pity and ‘oh look how bad things happen’. Not this time. It is just one that I needed to learn.

Chaos and loss take time to heal and settle. I need to take on this world one day at a time. With my best tough, brave face on.

It gets better.

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Sometimes I imagine falling off the planet for a few hours maybe even a few days. When I come back will the world still be the same? Will the absence from the constant hammering and indecency make the reality easier to deal with? Or worse?

For the world doesn’t know I exist; it is my life that is bound to be affected.

What if I went missing for a few years? Would I be able to survive the trauma of the return? There are parallel and extra terrestrial universes out there. I suppose. I could live in one for several years and no one would notice. But would I return? If yes because I miss the connection? Or would I return because I have a duty to fulfill?

For the world doesn’t know I exist; it is my life that is bound to shake.

It feels like the generation of a crisis from growing helplessness while looking at the state of the world. A crisis created by the terror brewing in my mind. Or is the world around us truly engulfed in chaos? Mindless misplaced acts of hatred all around. I presume.

Where are we headed? Or were we always here?