Life is a dance. It is the end of year school prom. It is the first waltz at a wedding reception. It is the first tenatative steps of a hopeful ourtship. Footballers dance past defenders. Tennis players dance across courts. Daredevils dance between life and death. Everyone dances. Everyone has a partner. But now...
Now, I dance alone.
It started out great. Don't they always? The talks. The kindness. The love. There is a wonderous elegance afoot when the heart makes its choice. When mind and soul are in rare collusion. Harmony. Compromise was always easy to reach. Forgiveness was always there to be found. Happiness was but a phone call away. What else could it have been, other than pure joy?
Other than love?
They rarely, if ever, end that way. I have never been fortuntate. They never stay as friends. They fade away. They disappear. As do you. Loneliness. Anger. Bitterness. A slow, mad descent into hate. Obstacles appear where there once open fields. Unlocked doors are sealed shut. INtimacy gives way to distance. Aloofness. Arrogance.
A stubborn, mind-numbing refusal to be open minded. To admit.. to being wrong.
How could we have survived? How could we have stayed together when we were both participants, in what was pulling us apart? Happy times grew few and far between. The arguments were getting frequent. Nasty. Heart-breaking. More and more, tears were my bedfellows, sadness my only companion as I navigated sleepless nights and lightless days.
I know now, as I should have known then, that it should have stopped. It should have ended. But I soldiered on, enamoured in my belief in love, strengthened by my faith in humanity. Yet it all came to nought. The pure disdain that became a greeting wounded my soul deeper than any mere physical harm. The contempt for emotion tore me into pieces.
What more could be done? I finally let go, worser for the wear, Scarred. Forever marked. An emotional burden I shall carry for as long as I am unable to deal with it.
Memories are bittersweet. The sorrowful eloqunce of their subtlety would be lost on closed hearts and hardened souls. It is hard to live like this. Each day is a struggle, the vagaries of life presenting alternating degrees of insurmountability. When will it all end? When will the simple pleasure of enjoying the sun's rays and the shine of the moon, become more than excercises in conquering the demons of the past? Demons, that threaten to haunt my future?
Life is a dance.
And I have forgotten the steps.
Now, I dance alone.
It started out great. Don't they always? The talks. The kindness. The love. There is a wonderous elegance afoot when the heart makes its choice. When mind and soul are in rare collusion. Harmony. Compromise was always easy to reach. Forgiveness was always there to be found. Happiness was but a phone call away. What else could it have been, other than pure joy?
Other than love?
They rarely, if ever, end that way. I have never been fortuntate. They never stay as friends. They fade away. They disappear. As do you. Loneliness. Anger. Bitterness. A slow, mad descent into hate. Obstacles appear where there once open fields. Unlocked doors are sealed shut. INtimacy gives way to distance. Aloofness. Arrogance.
A stubborn, mind-numbing refusal to be open minded. To admit.. to being wrong.
How could we have survived? How could we have stayed together when we were both participants, in what was pulling us apart? Happy times grew few and far between. The arguments were getting frequent. Nasty. Heart-breaking. More and more, tears were my bedfellows, sadness my only companion as I navigated sleepless nights and lightless days.
I know now, as I should have known then, that it should have stopped. It should have ended. But I soldiered on, enamoured in my belief in love, strengthened by my faith in humanity. Yet it all came to nought. The pure disdain that became a greeting wounded my soul deeper than any mere physical harm. The contempt for emotion tore me into pieces.
What more could be done? I finally let go, worser for the wear, Scarred. Forever marked. An emotional burden I shall carry for as long as I am unable to deal with it.
Memories are bittersweet. The sorrowful eloqunce of their subtlety would be lost on closed hearts and hardened souls. It is hard to live like this. Each day is a struggle, the vagaries of life presenting alternating degrees of insurmountability. When will it all end? When will the simple pleasure of enjoying the sun's rays and the shine of the moon, become more than excercises in conquering the demons of the past? Demons, that threaten to haunt my future?
Life is a dance.
And I have forgotten the steps.
