InDespair | CW: Grief & Depression

It will pass.

Reminder:

What could have been
What ..should.. have been
And yet, why..
Did it have to be this way?

...

...

So. Here we sit. You and I. Side by side.
Wrapped in our own blanket of sorrows.
Grieving under the same sky.

And that ...is sufficient.
For now; perfectly alright.

Silence can be our ally.

Yet, I persist through this dejection
'Miles to go' and all that
Though lacking an interest in any direction

This blanket of grief; a persistent ache
And yet, a comfort with permanence
I refuse to let it go. It is mine.

Even though it is a large part of me,
It does not - it can not - define me.

I have endured the passing of every kind
Parent, sibling, partner, child, pet
I am soon to be forty-five

Even my doctors agree (though for different reasons)
All of this has had an effect on my mind and physique
I am more akin to a sixty-five by that metric

Worse, where my demeanor is concerned.

In a place where everyone reaches out
I was asked to join in an attempt at ...betterment
However, my touch is blighted

Thereby, I tend to write more about my thoughts
Rather than the events themselves
All in an attempt to soften the edge

Not for my sake.

...

Warning: Dark, musings, turmoil

...

...

...

This is more primal.
A raw rejection of being.

'How can I even dare to exist?'
Merely where it begins to manifest.

This utter disgust.
This self-loathing of mine.

...

Hate does not quite encompass it.
It goes far beyond that.

It is not perfectionism either.
'Could have done better.' No.

Nor is it disappointment.
Or acceptance of expected failure.

...

Warning: Dark.

Not an unpleasant thought, that.

Or perhaps, more likely, yet another self-induced distraction.

An idle fancy.

Been thinking of him a bit, ever since my talk with the woman at the beach the other day.

He would be about her age now. Wherever he is.

I imagine his fascination with nature and her infatuation with the waters would compliment each other.

His parents were clued into the antics as well and were amused enough to play along. Everyone's own little open secret.

We kept up the illusion of not being home, so he could pretend to get away with this harmless charade.

Even got the gardener, from back when the state of the garden mattered, involved. The idea was to pretend she was just walking by if she saw the kid over on days she was supposed to show up.

For his part, he was gentle in his play; never tried to feed the dogs, and gave the cats a respectful wide berth; always with an eager absorbing gaze towards the fauna. He seemed to relish in being outdoors.

Meanwhile, the cats, though not fond of him, kept an eye out for him all the same. At one point, we even witnessed the elder get on the boy's case for trying to climb a tree.

The dogs liked him well enough. A good thing since the kid would visit maybe twice a week, on his bad days. He wasn't getting bullied; just troubled with an inability to make friends.

There used to be a boy that would visit. Sneak in to the garden to play with the dogs. Wife was the first to notice him.

Failed to mention I managed to do ...something to my foot.
Still needs more investigating.
Nothing visible. Seemingly.
Limping more than usual.

An excuse to see where my furniture-walking ability is at.

She still calls.

I simply can not answer.

Left the next morning, but that night the ocean; she was ceaseless. She knew.

Once I was rid of her, I was free to resume ...what? Had spent two days just staring at the waves. Rising. Reaching. Forever wanting yet never having. Always wanting to claim everything, yet never having anything.

Once she was dissuaded accordingly, we actually had a nice long conversation. Eloquent. Intelligent. Lively. Knew far more about the waters than I would have ever cared to learn. Threatened to teach me more should she find me loitering about again. Not a chance.

Met a girl, too. Not quite. But a young thing. Pretty. Elegant. Lady. Early twenty something. Strangely ignorant of the signs of my lack of youth.

Apparently, the whites in my beard are not sufficient an indicator that I might be twice her age.

Gazing across the vastness, past the raves and roils, there's a vague promise of tranquility. Much like the void above, in a way, but far more accessible.