08 July 2012

Mostly Metus

I have been sitting at my computer screen for much longer than I care to admit. I have been staring at it and it has been daring me to write something.  Anything. Even if it is wrong.  Even though it will not be read.  Forget about it being edifying. Don't even try for mildly entertaining. Just write. Get it out. Emotions without expression are poison to your soul. Vomit verbiage until you've purged.

Go ahead and write about how much you miss your dog after putting him to sleep yesterday.  Describe how soft and silky his cheeks were and how not knowing you were taking him to his death, he put his chin on his bed and gazed contentedly at you as you waited for the vet to come out. All the while you stroked his head and ears trying to remember forever the contours.  Try to articulate what it feels like to know that the one creature on the planet that preferred your company to anything or anyone else trusted you as you put him out of his misery when he didn't know he was miserable. He had what he wanted. You were next to him; the one place he fought to be. He'd jumped through windows, dug through sub-flooring, crashed through screen doors all to be at your side.   Let someone know the exchange that occurred. He got to leave pain behind and now you get to carry his and yours. Let the war between intellect and emotion battle here in the meta. Win lose or draw at least you'll have done something.

Talk about how empty your house is and how the other two pets you have don't really give a rip about you as long as you feed them.  Neither of them watched for you as you went outside to water plants this morning. There was no distinctive sound of nails trotting from door to door as your guardian kept an eye on you.  No sound of snoring next to you and no too warm body snuggled on your foot.  Nothing warm. Nothing cold enough to kill you.

Tell someone about your inner monologue.  How you tell yourself it will be easier to board these two because they will eat and not pine for you the way he did, so maybe you can go do some of the things you've always wanted.  Or if you had any money how you'd be gone already, headed somewhere cooler and where you have no memories.  Running away... fugue state... whatever you want to call it, you're ready to go. Cut ties. Clam up. Incognito. Incommunicado. Inter spem et metum.   
Scratch the surface. Prick your heart on a few adjectives. Let loneliness, fear and pain sing their anthems. Unloose the hounds of childhood trauma and adult disappointments.  Scream if you have to but do something. Put your big girl pants on and get on with what little is left to you.

Wait for it- like you waited for glimpses and visits from your mother and siblings. Familiar hopeless disappointment. Pretend you're strong enough. Lie to make friends. Throw out a verse or two, ones we all know. Chime in with "His glory and my good."   Act like you mean it.   What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Put Wonder Woman out of a job.

Am I finished?  Hardly. I have yet to begin.

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