Ben C. O. Grimm

At times, the sadness materializes. It grabs me by the shoulders and it pushes me under. All I can do is sit on the floor, my back against the bed. My hands are over my head. My eyes are closed. I'm gasping. Sometimes I can't seem to catch my breath anymore. It's one dark pool of misery. I try to think of something else. Anything at all. But I can't seem to find my way around your image. Everything I focus on has your mark on it. I think about music, and you just happen to sing lead vocals. A voice full of complaints and bitterness. It's not blues or a sad evergreen. It's like an ancient Greek choir, commenting on everything I did to make your life miserable. And they're sure rubbing it in. There are days when you're by my side. I run my eyes over your body. Peaceful and alien at the same time. I admire you from head to toe. Sometimes the hunger for details forces me to move closer to you. My hand is on the soft skin of your lower back. I rest my cheek on your slender hand. Less than an inch from your face, I can fully appreciate the delicate structure of your eyelashes. The fine arch of your nose. The full and inviting texture of your lips. You never look back. It's like a gift. It's like you're giving me all the time that I need to engrave you into my vision. It's not an easy task. The pleasure seems to be a one-sided affair. You give. I take. I take all I can get, but I don't really feel entitled to it. After a while I get cold. When you still loved me, everything you did made me feel warm. Now I feel like I tapped into a chilling source. I have to turn away and mourn. I could have you here right now, but I'm just too sad. I just sit here. Hold all calls. Shut off the pictures, please. Just leave me alone in this dark pit. The feeling of impending and eternal loss is all around me. I manage to open my eyes, but all is dark. It's no use wandering around the house. I can sit here, I can sit over there. There's no difference. It's all the same experience, the same darkness. It's strange how, at times like these, I get the feeling that you're warming up to me. Am I so stone cold that the loss of your affection seems a preferable situation? No, no, that can't be possible. I did wrong, and there's no way you can erase that fact. No hope, no future. You'll be here with me, whether I like it or not. All I can do is spare you any further damage. But sometimes it's just out of my hands. I can do absolutely nothing about it. I can beg, but that has never helped anyone. It certainly didn't help you. I can pick up the phone, but there'a always a lifeless recording on the other side. Patience. Hope. Soon. Resignation is all there's left for you and me. But the total lack of energy cuts through my soul. It folds me up and it puts me away. Maybe I can fight myself out of the box, but there's no gain. Pitch black. Not a sound. I just end up in a bigger box. It hurts me to realize that I can't look at you right now. If I try hard, I can feel your presence. But I'm afraid of what I might find. I'm better off just sitting here. Waiting. Waiting for this situation to pass. Waiting for the moment when the energy starts to flow. Then I will be able to see. I know the house will be empty. I know you're out of my life. The only consolation I have is that I can bring you back any time I want, even though I know you're not really part of the experience. It's totally selfish. It's all me, me, me. I'm glad the passive role you play doesn't cause you any pain or grief. How should you know? No, it's better this way. You had no life with me. Every time I read the letter you left behind I'm confronted with my own behavior. You couldn't take it anymore. I saw it, but I couldn't change my ways. If you would have disappeared without a sign you would have punished me more. Infinitely more. But you remained the better person, right until the day you wrote down your final goodbye. Maybe that was the ultimate revenge. A calm, reasoned decision. The final blow. The deepest cut. I never managed to say goodbye to you. You're still part of my life. But I'm in the dark. I'm just sitting here, waiting for the power to come on again. Then I'll check the freezer right away. I promise.

© Ben C. O. Grimm