A Rationale Of Pain...

In my mad crazy, alone thinking time. I was trying to rationalise the way I feel about all the pain I am forcing myself to go through over my ex...

Here is my metaphorical rationale...

I am in a room, there is some candle light, but mainly dark and shadow. Around me there is a lack of furnishings but I am surrounded by boxes, huge wooden packing crates, cardboard cartons and sweet tiny little packages tied with ribbons. In those boxes are memories, thoughts, hopes, wishes, dissapointments, fights, arguments, regrets, passionate liasons and love. All manner of 'fall out' and emotional paraphenalia that has materialised from my relationship with him.

I sit still in the room and look about me. I feel my skin prickle with the sweet and sourness of all around me. It is upsetting and confusing. I look at each box, each memory and try to fathom it. I gaze longingly at the happy memories, willing them to be relived...but they just disperse into a silvery mist. I am stabbed with the arguments and disagreements and over my head flash the words,'Shoulda Woulda Coulda'. The boxes spill open and their contents sprawl and mix into eachother. There is a puddle on the floor which reflects each painful scenario over and over and over again. Then again the positive recollections swathe about me and give me some temporary warmth. I can see his hands, feel his arms around me. I can smile briefly at the flashing image of the first time I swooned over his butt, the first time he bought me flowers and danced with me, the time we first made love...

and then I am hit with the reality that it is over...he isn't coming back...I will never see him again.

I think that is the most painful thing of all, knowing I will never see his face again.

There is a door in the room. It's an ordinary looking wooden door, nothing remarkable apart from the fact it is illuminated and open. Outside of the door is a facing wall...it's blank, no particular colour, no particular shadowing...

From where I sit, I can see the wall through the door and it occurs to me that it represents the rest of my life...

I know if I go through the door, that it will close behind me and I can take nothing with me from the room. I know I am free to walk through that door. I can get up from where I am sitting and walk towards the rest of my life, but if I do,I am never allowed to look back. I know I must go to that blank wall and start painting it with new paths, new experiences, new vistas...but...

today...I am not ready to leave the room.