And I go mad with grief. Those days with you were intensely real...elation, delirium, aze of consciousness... slipping in and out as jet lag crash tackles me and I struggle to continue as normal. So many thousands of miles away forom here... a breath away. Agony ago. Just three days.. I travelled 4 days for just 72 hours...
I am mad at the thought of you, the memory of the ease of being with and around you a torment to my soul and mind. The lack of you a tangible scourge. That beautiful city, the chill, gasp of freshness in the air...icy fingers cold caressing my face...moving that very first alone day to moments we had both taken. Softness in the air, in the filtered fey light gentle rain filtering through barely kissing and coasting over all of me... I watched out my window as the raind eepened and darkened and flung itself against the old stone building... shattering and flowing down the cracks and crevices...paving stones all shapes and sizes and textures...
frantically I write to capture these moments, wrapping them tenderly in words, forcing myself to put it all down and here; sights, senses..because here I trully lived albeit intensely and for the briefest moments.... Here Iw as happy. ... I knew true happiness - capture the feelings and the pain holding it to me all I have for the rest of my life's journey
The simple joy in just being alive and near you... Looking down at the hands you pick viciously around the fingers.. frowning remembering...
Now my life is solitary and silent...wrapped and bound in a silence so deep that I begin to lose the way to reach out and beyond. Isolated from the world and life by a barrier noone can see, and noone seeks to cross. I cannot speak. I sense my removal.. a step aside. I walk into this easily.. letting silence slip around me like a living shroud. I learn again to see observe and hear but disconnect all feeling, bury it - bury me.
The light has dimmed in everything...by 2pm that first day I took possession of the room that was to become our world. I did not then know it was the ending of my world. I sat there waiting for you aware of each minute...the speed of time moving far_too_slowly to you
Finally sitting in that waiting room aware of time.. aware of your closeness, a solitary child aware and awake... a rage of gladness throbbing through and around me.. the light headed joy of you... The shock of recognition I was caught home in the unfamiliar, the new. My body and soul fell into unconscious recognition of the hills and countryside your grew within..undulations rippling light through me. I was alive. I look back as at a stranger knowing the dank death and darkness my world has now become.
The child in me knows how prodigious those days were. Alive, intensely feeling. Significant, colourful, cahrged with meaning. I captured each moment every one and keep them locked within me here as treasures... I found myself different there. At that moment, in those moments waiting for you to arrive, I found myself back in touch with myself,; alive, aware, wanting.
I walk miles now... I avoid the company of others...slowly I do not answer calls, I do not catch anyone's eyes...walking int the last cool of the morning is a pleasure and I ave so few of them now. I look ahead to weariness and frustration in work and the multilayered complications of the life that otehrs live like satellites around me.
There is the early morning light,cool delicate as a bubble, nourishing , heady with the swell of the rising sun and the day's heat and the sharpness of all stirring things. Thousands of cobwebs, glistening like spun diamonds festooned between trees and bushes...the marvellous prodigal sun throws his light about and in the trees with their close cupped half bursting new growth of leaves, birds blossom and sing their hearts out. I see these things. Isolated. Alone. The song in me stilled.
Even in the gray dawn I can distantly hear people moving about somewhere. Some households stir with the first light. I know intimately the bend in my morning path, where I look up each day and see the fushia flowering down a cascade of carmine, always with a shock of astonishment at the sublime beauty. Simplicity, no artifice. nothing contrived.
As I walk in silence, cloaked in silence,tongue stilled, feet padding the earth. I let all things just be, flowers, grass birds... quietly and gently letting all things and the deep and tender knowledge of them all be, revereing...courtesy towards all life and beauty... I wander past it.. into it..on the edges..an invisible observer.
