How Great the Cost

Love that's lost - how great the cost
of these, our all too human hearts.
We try to claim it didn't matter, and
that we're still the same; thinking we
can hide our pain within an altered
attitude - and so the moods begin to
build into a seismic wave of great
emotion, ever moving in to take its
place upon the greater stage of these,
our lives.

Then another evening falls, and this one
is one too many. For it falls too hard, too fast,
too dark, too lone, this time around. And all
those old time memories come roaring back
to life inside of us - suddenly, beyond control
or any compensation. A record, scratched
and oddly worn, begins to play those same
old songs again.

You dance within their arms again, but moving
now holds nothing but the empty air that's left.
And even as the blessing of those loving
memories comes back, the tears begin
to flow again, and so you sink into the dark -
lost within the starkness of lone being. It's then
that life becomes too unappealing to be lived.

Have you come to that point, where all that
you want is to hide yourself away from all
the world, and let the memories replay
themselves in earnest? When every fiber
of your being yearns for what can never
be again. Arms wrapped around yourself,
an utter emptiness begins to scream inside
of you, and all that you can do is merely
listen, listlessly - a lonely cave, where
oceanic tides still come to play.

The greater circumstances, the logic
and the reason - they've all been put in
order long ago. You've cried so many
tears, entire countries could have been
washed clean by them. You've railed and
you've yelled and beat the pillows into mush;
even kicked the walls a time or three, yet no
matter that you try to make it different, the
emptiness continues in the strange and
lonely echoes only you can seem to hear.

An essence is missing, nowhere to be
found anymore. Heart-light dimmed, we
move, but cannot really feel alive again within
a state like this. And the years (too many now)
are swiftly closing in, like moving walls of steel,
that slowly crush the life right out of you.
You move, but the vitality is gone. And lately,
even friends are better off without you there.

There is a grand perspective that you
simply can no longer reach. A sunset
full of love and laughter, on a beach
that ought to still be there - but it has been
misplaced, as if it never really were for
you at all. Criticism, growing in a sense
of self-indulgent cruelty, comes more and
more to haunt the living moments of your
days. And night (oh nights when we loved so
completely and unerringly in sync!), they
slither in, and now invade the days with
yet more pain and emptiness.

Double vision, and yet more; for misery
unspoken, leads to ever so much more of
just the same. Is this the ending that became
too many? So much more than just a straw
that broke the camel's back. For this lack,
this void, this emptiness, where love once
lived between the two of you, is as ceaseless
as it is unending. It errs not in the path some
other part of you has chosen. It is complete,
and nothing that you think or will, will e'er undo
this journey of undying destiny.

You think about the many endings that you
have endured before; but this is so much more
than even all of those now put together - at once
a multitude and yet, its meaning reaching deeper,
pulling harder, bringing pain unspeakable to you.
So many months have come and gone, and too,
the many remedies of mental tricks that used to
pick you up again - but even now, you cannot
seem to pick yourself back up from this , the
endlessness of ever falling down.

All the little, endless tasks, that used to seem to
matter - hold no meaning for you anymore. You
shut the doors and windows yet again (it's almost
that you are afraid of life re-entering and bringing
yet more endless pain to bear). You've always
known you were at least a little bit insane. But
now it seems that *something other* pushed you
o'er the brink - and you are falling endlessly,
without a chance of being caught or landing
lightly on a growing tide of living dawn. The light
just hurts your eyes these days - the very light
you used to base the visions of your life upon.

You look upon the world as it moves on; but
now it makes no sense to you at all. Falling,
ever falling - until even a crash would mean
some sort of a release you simply can't attain
without it. You watch the many families go on,
and know that yours is doing very well without
you there within their lives. And you wonder,
how it used to be that age was once considered
with respect instead of no more than that a pent-up,
youthful rage and disregard. Could it be, the time
has finally come that you announce yourself at
just the age you've really come to be?

Eternity, the promise was a great, unendingness
of loving time. Why do such moments have to
have an end? And why, oh why, do endings come
so soon to those beginnings? When meaning,
always based in love, has been the one ongoing
stream that held you to this life in flesh and form.
And that is just the essence that is lacking so entirely;
ever since they chose call it quits. You begin to
realize that reason simply cannot come to feel
this endless void; yet still you hang, suspended,
in its grasp.

Love that's lost, how great the cost
of these, our all too human hearts...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...