Current mood:lovedone of those nights.
the kind that creeps up every so often,
long after you are convinced,
the danger has passed,
and you'll never ever have another,
at least not on your own terms or without fair warning.
but then that's the thing about grief.
she's the ultimate equalizer.
you can't out run, out smart, or out manuever her.
she doesn't care who you are, how strong you think you are, what you've been through before, or that tomorrow is a work day and you really need a good night's rest.
she's persistent that way.
not uncaring, or purposely unkind, but just unflinchingly fair.
in the most inconveninet and consistent of ways.
sometimes you see her coming.
there is a warning in the wind, in your mood -
you wake up with a sense that she's hovering about,
aiming to make an appearance.
and other days,
she creeps up,
and insistent none the less.
i didn't see her coming this time.
though my melancholy should have alerted to this much.
but there was nothing special in the skies,
no harsh winds, biting breezes or mean colors painted across the horizon.
no trigger moments,
old memories wrapped in familiar faces,
or favorite songs floating back over innocent airwaves.
nothing to poke, prod, tease or torture.
there was no test of wills this time.
my strength against hers.
it just happened.
the moment my head hit the pillow,
i knew it was too late.
i felt him for one.
i always do.
i can't see him--not in dreams, not in scenes, or faded memories--
even when i try . . .
but i do feel him,
in waves, in rhythyms, in energies so forcefully dispatched,
wth the same presence and purpose by which he'd command a room,
that signature of his to this day remains true,
so i knew it, rihg then, when he entered and even of why he had come.
i knew he knew, that i missed him.
that i had been missing him,
but had just not said anything and had just not been acknowledging the void because i didn't want to fall away to the tears, or to the fear of not being able to come back once i went there, or to the excruitiating lonliness and despair . . .
i didn't want to go there and so i thought i could stop it.
by just ignoring it.
by just pretending it wasn't so,
even though it never worked like that before,
but no matter,
because he knows,
he knows me better then that.
he always did.
and so he had come,
waiting until i was to lay my head down,
close my eyes,
and fade off to sleep,
then so quietly his spirit did floated to me through the pane,
to lay down beside me,
to wrap his warm arms around me,
to hold my frame together like pieces of mended glass,
and to pull me close.
to remind me both of his promise,
and of his absence,
and of him.
and then with no where else to run.
and the game called---
the tears fell.
one by one.
silent this time
no outward screams,
or fearful gasps.
just the silent,
and of loss.