Life’s trying to re-channel all the conscious feeling he’s
had over the years. Smoky fire is crackling on the fireplace; the chimney is
still leaking, but the cold was too much. Today he should be celebrating a
special day, but the country is locked down, just like his life has been over
the past few years. He fidgets when he remembers the happenings of the past four
months. Things he never anticipated to happen to him, were hitting him, one
after the other like a full-blown tornado. His dexterity in making others feel
at home had failed him. He might have pushed too hard, and now he cringes as thoughts recanted themselves over and over in his mind.
Home is where the heart is, but for him, this was not the case. A hollow void visibly hangs over his usual bubbly self. A face keeps popping up in his mind, he can’t shake it off. He is going through a distant but a familiar phase. “It’s all going to be okay,” he reassured himself with a sigh. His shoulders remained drooped, the burden though less than yesterdays’ still weighed down his soul. His eyes where swollen, nights have been long, the smoke from the wet firewood did not help either. Today’s song on replay is
I wish I was Better by Kina. Chords striking deep unearthing memories of times gone.
A now cold cup of brewed tea sat on the mantle; he’d gotten
carried away by thoughts. His phone keeps beeping, momentarily brightening his
face, only to go back to is gloomy self. Not the one. He is getting used to it; disappointment. He knows it too well
that to embrace his brokenness, whatever it looks like, whatever has caused it,
carries within it the real possibility that one might come to embrace one's
healing, and then one might come to the next step: to embrace someone else and
their brokenness and their possibility for being healed. He is slowly learning that the truth lies not
in avoiding one’s brokenness because it could mean turning one’s back on the
possibility that healing might be at work here, perhaps for him, perhaps for
another. An undoing. Another day is coming to an end. Hearts’ a mess.
Memoirs #2
G.L
Comments
Post a Comment