A brief moment of clarity:
Apr. 25th, 2005 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
singerinthedarkI wrote this Friday night (April 22nd) after a brief walk home. I didn't put it up until today because I wanted to give it a couple of days to see if anyone would respond to my last entry. I recieved two really wonderful and helpful responses - one on the last entry's message board and one by e-mail. They both helped a bit, and I am grateful to be around so many caring, reassuring people.
As I walked home last night from barelyproper's home, I looked up through the trees to see the moonlight peaking through the clouds. The wind shifted and swayed the trees. I remember nights like this would make Matt and I antsy; on nights like this we would go for long walks outside, pointing out the small, but beautiful wonders of the world to each other. Nights like this make me feel closer to God, wherever It may be found. As the wind shifts direction, I can feel the changes and transitions of life floating around me, and I know that my world is not through shifting just yet. There are a few more surprises for me in the near future. They are out there, on the cusp of being, affirming my will to be.
For just a brief moment, I saw myself in love again. Not soon, but a long time from now. The connection is different than with Matthew. I saw myself introducing Matt to this faceless person. Of course, this person was taken aback by his presence in my life, but (he?) slowly comes to accept it. Afterwords, Matt steps behind the veil to watch over me from a distance. Matt is never too far away to be there for me, but never so close as to smother me, just as he was in life. This vision is hope - hope that there is a life for me beyond this moment in my life.
In this moment I understood how my life will be. My life will never be in the same bright hues as it was with Matt. I will always carry this sadness and understanding of death with me throughout my life. I have become the tragic heroine I dreamed I was not so long ago. And in balance with the joy and love I have received from and with Matt, so shall I experience the stings and sorrows of loving too much and not enough all at once. And perhaps there is a different color pallet out there for me. It may not have all the bright springtime colors I shared with Matthew, but is my own pallet of more subtle, beautiful hues. This pallet will be all mine, tinted with sadness and hope for the world at large.
All this pain, all this suffering will mean nothing if no one learns from it. Perhaps, by putting this here, someone else will stumble upon my words and find comfort in the fact that he or she is not alone. I realize that I cannot rely only on other peoples' experience of grief and loss to guide me. This is the chronicle of what my life is like after losing my soul-mate in my early 20's. This is the chronicle of how life moves on, even when I don't have the strength to do so myself.
And maybe I will never be in love again. That does not mean that I cannot be a complete and fulfilled human being. Though I'm not sure where I want to be in five years anymore, I do know that whatever I do I will do it with love. Despite everything, I am a fortunate person who still has so much to give to the world. I have a loving family with whom I get along with (most of the time). I have an enormous extended family, including blood relatives, adopted relatives, good friends, gamers, and pryanksters. This means that I will never go hungry or lack shelter. I will never be completely broke as long as I am willing and able to work at even the worst jobs. Despite my sadness, I can still find the beauty in the small things in life. I am blessed, and in that, I will always be fulfilled.
As I walked home last night from barelyproper's home, I looked up through the trees to see the moonlight peaking through the clouds. The wind shifted and swayed the trees. I remember nights like this would make Matt and I antsy; on nights like this we would go for long walks outside, pointing out the small, but beautiful wonders of the world to each other. Nights like this make me feel closer to God, wherever It may be found. As the wind shifts direction, I can feel the changes and transitions of life floating around me, and I know that my world is not through shifting just yet. There are a few more surprises for me in the near future. They are out there, on the cusp of being, affirming my will to be.
For just a brief moment, I saw myself in love again. Not soon, but a long time from now. The connection is different than with Matthew. I saw myself introducing Matt to this faceless person. Of course, this person was taken aback by his presence in my life, but (he?) slowly comes to accept it. Afterwords, Matt steps behind the veil to watch over me from a distance. Matt is never too far away to be there for me, but never so close as to smother me, just as he was in life. This vision is hope - hope that there is a life for me beyond this moment in my life.
In this moment I understood how my life will be. My life will never be in the same bright hues as it was with Matt. I will always carry this sadness and understanding of death with me throughout my life. I have become the tragic heroine I dreamed I was not so long ago. And in balance with the joy and love I have received from and with Matt, so shall I experience the stings and sorrows of loving too much and not enough all at once. And perhaps there is a different color pallet out there for me. It may not have all the bright springtime colors I shared with Matthew, but is my own pallet of more subtle, beautiful hues. This pallet will be all mine, tinted with sadness and hope for the world at large.
All this pain, all this suffering will mean nothing if no one learns from it. Perhaps, by putting this here, someone else will stumble upon my words and find comfort in the fact that he or she is not alone. I realize that I cannot rely only on other peoples' experience of grief and loss to guide me. This is the chronicle of what my life is like after losing my soul-mate in my early 20's. This is the chronicle of how life moves on, even when I don't have the strength to do so myself.
And maybe I will never be in love again. That does not mean that I cannot be a complete and fulfilled human being. Though I'm not sure where I want to be in five years anymore, I do know that whatever I do I will do it with love. Despite everything, I am a fortunate person who still has so much to give to the world. I have a loving family with whom I get along with (most of the time). I have an enormous extended family, including blood relatives, adopted relatives, good friends, gamers, and pryanksters. This means that I will never go hungry or lack shelter. I will never be completely broke as long as I am willing and able to work at even the worst jobs. Despite my sadness, I can still find the beauty in the small things in life. I am blessed, and in that, I will always be fulfilled.
