On a particular night like this one, I admit of the weakness. A weakness, as human beings, is not foreign, of a particular sadness.
It has been said, the deeper the grief, the more radiant the love. In the strongest, (and also stronger) of days, I am able to accept this. But the human mind is at times weak, we give in to the sadness.
Tears fall – cathartic. As if ridding of the anger, the sadness. But each breath is heaved, as if magnifying the deformity of the heart, a deformity that was made when all was taken out of you. There is no pain anymore, but like an old injury, the muscle remembers; that which was once there is now no longer.
I used to believe that there are times in our lives where we must face a great break down, that will lead to a build up. Like how a diamond is refined, maybe how a sculptor forms a piece of art. But maybe, just maybe, it might be something else. Like a storm, these events, these people, sweep through you and empty you out, taking all that you knew. The taking is painful, you gag, you choke.. “Is this what dying feels like?”. You feel robbed; but maybe, this may be the prelude to things greater, you’re emptied to receive a greater delight.
“Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond,” – Rumi.