Love TranscendsPosted: January 12, 2011
In the wee hours of the night I sit here perched on my padded chair like a bird in a covered cage. Darkness bathes the windows. I’m again alone with the dead. Rather than lay in bed feigning sleep again, I choose to keep her company.
Sometimes I feel her presence, and catch myself looking out of the corner of my eye into the shadows preparing myself for the moment she makes herself known; to date she hasn’t. Still, I know she’s there. Not because I keep the memory of her alive with the photo’s I’ve surrounded myself with of her. Not because of the deep love and devotion I still carry. No, because she whispers and I can hear.
Love never dies; nor has she. Her death has shrouded her like a veil, making it impossible for searching eyes to see, but beneath it she watches, she whispers, and I wait. Those nights, like now, when I’m plagued with insomnia despite the tablets I’ve ingested that promise sleep, I know it’s because she’s lonely; restlessly wandering in the blackness. I can feel her pain and in my helplessness to do more, simply pass time with her.
I used to wonder if she were coming for me, and would shrink in fear, cowering under my covers, afraid to leave my bed. For months after her death these thoughts haunted me. I know now it’s not my death she desires so that I can accompany her on the journey we started many years ago when our friendship first began, but rather the life she had with me she still desires and misses. So we bridge the gap between the two with each other in silence.
I’m no longer afraid of death as I once was. I don’t embrace the thought, but neither do I fear it. I have this peace now, knowing that she’s there waiting, and at the very moment I take my last breath will be standing on the threshold between here and there; ready with a reassuring smile, and an extended hand to help me cross over. I won’t be alone. I won’t be alone as I am now; enduring daily the pain and conflict of emotions that eat away at me like a cancer from her suicide. Then, and only then, will I be able to ask her the question that causes me night terrors…”Why?”