A Loss of Words...

She called out to me again today…

She was upset, upset that I had not been in touch with her. Its has been only 4 weeks since I last spoke to her, but for her as she put it, sounded like 4 millennia….

I will not lie, I always feel good when I talk to her, and she is the very essence of my being.

But I still ignored her.

I heard her silent plea for acknowledgment and yet I ignored her….

She is my mistress, my mistress of the night, sometimes I sit late at night gossiping with her, she completes me, makes my day. Talking to her is like reliving the memories of yesteryear when all was good, nothing was out of place… but that time is now only a distant remembrance, and I can only live them through her.

With her it was always bright and sunny, sitting beside her in the pleasant shade, life was bliss, but now… I found joy in the rain, in the constant patter of the rain that beckons me to dance, like the newborn who finds warmth in the bosom of its mother, I found joy. I felt guilty.

Guilty cause I was doing the one thing she told me not to, like me she feared the storm but unlike me she did not embrace it.

I walked down that path, enduring it, companionless, even when all hope was lost; I still stumbled on, picking my self up where I fell, starting from scratch where I lost everything. I Endured. I endured it alone.

Through me she endured it too… she survived the storm. For a moment I though she would join me, dance with me, become my muse again. But it was not so.

For that I punished her, I stopped speaking to her.

She was my healer, my councilor and my missy… I wonder now if she missed me the way I did her.

Like the crying child misses its mother, I missed her.

Then without warning the urge to talk to her again set in … this urge could not be ignored even, even blocking it out did not seem to work … so I sat down with her and made amends. I admit it felt like nirvana…

She started off by telling me how I have changed. How dancing in the rain, has changed me, how finding joy even in despair changed me. I liked it. I made a vow that day, to keep in touch, silently making a resolve to show her how liberating dancing in the rain is. She is my mistress once more.

For the moment I ignore her, because for the first time in my life I am at a loss of words, I don't know where to begin, where to end...

I wish I could tell you, but I can’t find the words....

Sometimes we put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares to break them down.

This Post is dedicated to my Mistress, without whom I would not be the individual I am today

~*~