Christina Engela - 2011-06-15
I woke up this morning, alone. The space beside me, cold and empty. You should have been there, but you weren’t. Your pride was too strong and you were too good for me, remember? Well, I do. How could I ever forget?
You said you could handle my past; you said you could face the future by my side. But somehow both issues became just too steep for you to climb over. What I am and what I was before was just too much for you to accept or deal with; your misplaced faith that I could be anything else just too much for me to give in to, or capitulate.
Nothing in this universe could stop the process I went through to become who I am, nor turn it back to what I was, nor make me perfect enough for me to be acceptable to you. And so here we are, two opposites in a world of opposing forces, assigned labels like “good” and “evil” simply for how we come into this world, how we cope with it, and how we go out from it. In a world where we are taught too much that it matters, how can I blame you any further?
Facing each other across a great divide of what is called moral and acceptable by opposing camps, and what isn’t, about what defines us as good or evil – no matter who we hurt, or how many, or how we hurt them, or how deeply. Considering the paradox of the society we live in, you and I – where someone who helps others, sacrifices of themselves and gives unselfishly can be judged immoral and evil, while someone who judges others, deprives them of the right to live and to find the happiness they themselves sometimes lack or miss, can be deemed moral and good. And all this just because of what we have – or had – between our legs, or between our ears, or in our hearts.
It’s not right, but it is what it is – a fact as undeniable as the hollow in your pillow, or the extra room on your bed to sleep in. I often wonder if those who hate us so much wonder if their efforts have any effect on us? If they ever hear our cries, the mournful cries of loss, sorrow and pain inflicted by those who think they do good, or what they would even think or say or feel, if anything, if they ever did. And then I realise that the loss of one is another’s gain, and that sometimes what I lose now, I may regain in future, or not need again.
I woke up this morning, alone. I opened my eyes upon cold blank linen and stretched into the vacant space around me – and found it warmer without your condemnation, the silence – free of your criticism and insults, that much more pleasing. The realisation dawned that sometimes it is more than just love or need that makes us who and what we are, or drives us apart, or brings us together – it is the cold facts and reality – that cold equation that decides things for us, no matter our feelings. And the understanding that there are plenty more fish in the sea, more oceans to explore than I dare dream of, and that in the depths of these dark seas of the soul, filled with minnows and sharks … I am a whale.
I woke up this morning, fulfilled.