by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney
There are times when the human experience is a cold, dark thing. Those are the times when all of the warmth and happiness that one knows to be possible, just doesn't seem to matter nearly as much anymore. For at least awhile. It is also during these times that one reflects back upon similar times, some not quite as cold or dark, and some even more so. The edges of vision fade to darkness as a body loses interest in even perceiving anything beyond what is the focus in front of the eyes. Then it narrows even further. Sort of a tunnel vision formed by sheer apathy.
The temperature of the room or day or night... doesn't matter, either. Things just ... well, are. These are the times that people who actually care begin to worry or even try to intervene. At least for awhile. If there are too many times in which one enters the cold and dark places, even those that are dearest and hold that precious life dear themselves... simply... cannot take much more and the caring starts to erode.
Why is it that those times in which the darkness and cold choose to enter and invade seem to always be when we are warm and bright? Is it so that the different is stark and it is recognized? A survival mechanism of sorts? Is it so that there is warmth and light to absorb part of the descent? Or is it just... because that's the only time you notice the cold and the dark? Are they really always with us? Just kind of hiding until you can notice them?
I don't know. For awhile, at least. I was beginning to be happy. I was allowing myself to believe that things would work out, that I have (had?) a chance at a life worth waiting for fruition.
It's still there, just out of reach. But, I'm not nearly as dark and cold as I've ever been. I have at least a beacon in my darkness, a candle-flicker of warmth in the cold. I have someone I know cares more deeply and more profoundly than is able to be expressed in all the human languages there ever have been, are, or will be simply because it can never be as ... well, as I've just said, it defies description.
So there is no need to worry, and I will return to the warmth and light, but... it's painful. I sit and choke on my own tears. Awhile... at least for...
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