Today I walk toward that old familiar door. A door I’ve opened too many times…more times than I wish to admit. A door where thick ominous clouds take residence. Thunder greets me at the door, as if to announce my arrival, yet again. A door I would prefer I never see again for the rest of my natural life, but a door I’m deeply, intimately familiar with.
Here I am again. Staring at the ancient oak wood. The rusty well worn hinges. Breathing in scents that envelope and draw me in, suffocating me while caressing my tear stained cheek all at the same time. Welcoming me in, enticing me to stay, seducing me with its promises; promises that at any other time would seem vile, unwelcome, rebuked. But today they feel like rain after a heat wave, like hot tea on a cold evening, like home.
The promise of freedom, of finality, the promise of death.
Yes here I am again, at deaths door. Here I am again knocking. Here I am again pleading. Here I am again screaming to be heard. To be seen. To be let in. To be set free.
Free from this mundane existence. Free from the predictability. Free from the insanity of not knowing where I’m going, yet circling in the sameness of here, of this.
If the last 10 years, the last 20 years, the last 30 years are any indication of what the next 10 years, the next 20 years, the next 30 years will be like, then whats the point? Just end now. End here. End already.
That’s the question that I rose with this morning…’what’s the point?’ This dreary, Wednesday morning. This morning that’s just like every other morning. A morning with so many promises but no promises at all. A morning giving way to a day steeped in the mystery of living, yet I stare at the tombstone of mystery and weep.
Why do I feel like this? Why do these thoughts torment me? I have lived, I have achieved, I have loved. Yet here I am again.
Have I really lived?
I exist. Impact-less, short-lived achievements. Pointless. Failed loves. Torment of loves that will never be. What is the point?
And with every year that ticks on the clock that is my life, I call out again to darkness. Darkness take my hand and never let go. Darkness free me. Darkness save me from me.
And just like a familiar old love song, I know you will fail me darkness. You will let me slip out of your cold, unforgiving fingers. You will lose me to this unrelenting, unwanted gift. I did not want you life. I did not ask for you life. Yet here you are.
But for now, for today, I will embrace you darkness. For now I will rest my cheek on your cold, old oak wood. I am yours and you are mine. I’m here. Lost. Defeated. Still. I will be yours today darkness. And if I can, I’ll be yours tomorrow. I’ll hold on to you for as long as I can. Hoping that you will open up for me. And just let me be.