Noelle m.

The finality of a finale is, at times, anything but final. Within the fine print are grey sentences riddled with incomplete thoughts, generalized statements, false premises, blurry emotions and hyperboles of the past, lingering in memory.

Yet, the unknown is willing it into existence. Gaps become deeper if they aren’t filled; the silence between two people becomes louder and obnoxious, like sudden rainfall.

This inevitable outcome came too soon, stealing every possibility in the present and future of shared joy and hope of being free in the sunlight.

Robbed.

It’s like drawing water from a broken bucket, questions of “what if?” and “what could be?” are short-lived and cannot accumulate. The answer is a dead end.

Clearly, the truth is before their eyes, but these conclusions are lost in translation and application.

To FINALLY let go breaks their fragile heart, leaving fragments of glass along their flowery landscapes that they could not remove on their own. Though they try to piece it back together, it does not look the same.

My conclusions are accurate.

My conclusions are accurate.

My conclusions are accurate.

I keep forgetting that the door closed two years ago – its warmth disappeared and I was left outside to soak in the rain.

The process in which I find my way out of that pitch black is like the soul’s journey in purgatory; I have the choice to run, fall and climb till I see the light. It’s a test of courage and endurance in which I am guided to succeed if I trust in the Lord.

But the light is fire, and slowly, I realized I was becoming nothing but ashes.

The highest form of the being is love, leaving behind its body of ash; light is the catalyst of death, particularly the death of self.

To chase any other source except for the light was to become like flies all dead in the trap of foolishness – of acting out of selfish interest and embracing the false beliefs of the herd.

It’s a pitiful fallen state we cause to ourselves and others, but the Lord is there, gently reminding us and forgiving us so He may make something beautiful out of these ashes if we choose Him.

I’ve learned that in the finite circumstances of life, it’s a blessing and a curse to form these bonds of infinity with other people.

In this chapter, this particular connection was grey until it became a charcoal black, never to return to its original form, but in my other relationships with friends and family, these connections are colorful, thriving in webs of red strings for all of eternity.

I find that there’s beauty in both.

22/2/2022, 22:22

Two-day, two-morrow,

together or to never.

It takes two to tango.

Though sometimes,

One lives, one dies.

It’s one story but with

two sides.