You hear people comment that "it's darkest just before the dawn," and, while that may be true - that everything seems its most desolate just before the dawn breaks through, it seems to me that the most lonely time of day is that time right at sunset. It's that time the world is calming for the night - settling down for a slumber meant to renew and refresh the bleakness of a sun-baked landscape.
It's that moment, when the sun settling into the horizon sets the sky ablaze with a bounty of colors too beautiful to be real, that the realization of how alone you may or may not be sinks in. You watch the canvas as it's being painted, longing for that special someone with whom to share that moment - only to find yourself irrevocably and totally alone. Alone in the majesty of a night symphony that was written for two - and only being played for an audience of one.
Putting pen to paper only soothes the ache that is building in your soul for a short while - soon you're wanting to cry out to the world, denounce just how unfair a hand circumstance has dealt you in that moment. Longing to share that moment - that most intimate of moments - with someone who turns your world upside down... and unable to do so. You continue to put pen to paper, hoping - no, praying - that it will quell the yearning you feel; quench the fires burning within you and feeding your passions.
And does it?
For a while. But it's a temporary fix - a band-aid for the larger problem you face each and every day. What is it about that person that makes you freeze? What is it about him that keeps you unable from finding your voice? What keeps you from singing his name from the rooftops, alerting the media... telling him?
Is it fear? Lord knows we've been hurt before - oh yes, but then what man, woman, or child hasn't? Hurt is a normal part of growing and changing in this life. It's the hurts and disappointments who make us what we are - stronger beings capable of handling the most insane circumstances imaginable.
Is it the finality of it? As if just uttering those words - asking a simple question or making a simple statement - means you can never take them back? Who would want to? Who would choose to take back words so simple, so meaningful - straight from the heart?
So what is it? What dictates this oddity that, if left to paper or screen, the words flow freely... yet remove those media where you are faced with the situation at hand (no defenses, no barriers, nothing left to get in the way) and the words freeze. And, not normally one to allow intimidation (or fear or whatever is keeping you from doing this) to rule your life, you meekly accept it as the norm - you never once question anything aloud, only in your head and in the recesses of your being. You never once say, "Why don't we..." and instead just keep on with the way things are.
So what makes this one act so impossible to perform?
No comments:
Post a Comment