A moment of silence for the dead hours you’ve spent navigating the whys and hows of people leaving your life, without an exit warning, the stark difference between what there once was and the skeleton of what now is. Not that your exit sign isn’t flashing, saying ‘hey you are always welcome to stay, but I’ll still love you if you leave’, but how many of us do you know who can feel with the same intensity, an unwavering flame, in absence. How many of them, the ‘leaving kind’, do you know who would reciprocate, the same number of dead hours, to think of you back.
A moment of silence for the dead hours you’ve spent so far strategising over the hours, the days, the years to come. Not to say that what isn’t here may never come, but circumstances like to distort themselves sometimes and yes, that’s not your fault, but you’ll have no choice in the end but to adapt. Because life sweeps you off your feet on good days, on bad days, when you thought you had it sorted, when you thought the bed bugs don’t bite, when you thought the bed was empty and cold, when you had already comfortably accepted the cosiness of loneliness, when you had happily accepted your defeat.
A moment of silence for the dead hours spent mourning for dead hours. I know I am telling you (scary) stories here, but after this moment of silence is gone, you still have time, the choice, to let it all go.
Image credits:
Title:The Ghost of Kohada Koheiji, from the series One Hundred Ghost Stories (Hyaku monogatari)
Rational Artist 