RAIN DROPS AND SILVER CLOUDS

Rain drops on the window pain, the night is cold and I am all alone. Not for the first time though and the silence in my room is but a mockery to the multitude of noises in my head. Questions unanswered and promises unkept. I grow accustommed to the solitude but let it not be mistaken for tranquility. The smile on the face is a mask to shield the hurt within. Pain comes and goes and the torment of the past keeps coming back to hunt. Where has my peace gone? Where did the goodwill go to? I grow weary of asking questions . I grow weary of searching. I grow weary of all the things that have a semblance of hope. I easily identify with the dark clouds in the guise that I expect refreshing rain, in truth it is the gloom that begets me. The gloom of my reality is one of despair and pain. Not that the urge to try has ceased, but that the sensibility of knowing that what you seek has long gone. The chase becomes futile and the promises of a million words no longer spur the heart to try. A new hobby? That also haas been tried and, not to sound pessimistic, the flavour of sweet honey and spice and the allure of ever intoxicating wine have all turned into a routine to pass time and to engineer in the minds of people that all is well.
For the time being, all is indeed well and the pain seems to have abated. Common sense and experince tells me that the pain would return and in a moment when I would not be prepared, in a moment when the same mistake that was made in the past would be made yet again. It is not a choice to live in misery, for the misery makes life in itself a living torment. We all hold on to dreams and hope they become a reality, but what about the nightmares? And those nightmares have away of becoming a reality faster than the ‘happy ever afters’.
Suddenly, it is made known to me that the source of pain is not in the search of joy but in the fear of falling and failing. The handicap you feel when you are made to believe that no matter how hard you try, the inevitable outcome would be failure. Failure that is accompanied with shame. The loss of dignity and integrity and the warning from the numerous failures beside you that you should know better that to try again. That is the pain. That is the gloom you find and make a haven in. The entry of the word brings light and darkness flees in the presence of light. And along the line, a voice of hope more excruciating than the pain you have endured all along, snaps you to life. Opens your eyes and makes you see the light of the life you have. You still see the gloom but you also know and understand that ‘in every dark cloud there is asilver lining’. Even if destiny is delayed, it wont be denied. We begin to accept the things we do not understand. Making for ourselves resolutions along the way that would indeed make us stronger and always remembering that in this life, we are never alone.
It’s a sad fact that life is not fair but in it are the tools to fight for justice and happiness. We all get what we deserve and when we do get it, what we do with it is entirely up to us.

THOSE WORDS...

She cried herself to sleep again and promised herself never to pass through such misery again. The words she said she could not take back. The feelings she made bare, her soul she poured out. Not a signal was made to make her aware of the sacrifice she was to make and indeed how unprepared she was. To speak or not to speak, she kept on churning and ruminating as she tried to make sense of the events that just unfolded before her eyes. It was a decision she had thoroughly thought out and repeatedly executed in her mind. Reality, on the other hand had many other variables she had not deemed necessary to factor in. a recipe for disaster? Well a disaster might be an understatement because she now had nothing else to say, nothing else to offer. This was her one chance, her only opportunity and she blew it. Was it ever going to be the same? Would she have the courage to try again? Were the wounds ever going to heal?
The words she said were raw, pure and well rehearsed. She had no intention of being misinterpreted. She wanted to speak from her heart. She spoke, but the words never came out. Her voice failed her when she waited it to be heard and her heart was exploding with words that were never heard. Her body shivered as she tried to gather some semblance of composure. Little pellets of perspiration trickled down her forehead and she could feel her armpit soak. ‘where did my confidence go?’, she asked herself. She turned and walked away, she ran away. Where the energy came from,she knows not, but she ran an she quizzed herself, she questioned her heart. But the answers lay not within but out there where her voice was needed. The response she wanted was never going to happen. The words she wanted to hear were never going to be said to her. What did she expect? It was her expectations that had let her down and she had but herself to blame. Even now, blame was useless. The resolution of the inner battle was going to take time and she knew she was going to lose even that. The feelings were gone against her will, she remained broken, the words were not said and the words she expected to hear…