Fade Away

Darkness and the Hope that Follows

Photo by Rene Böhmer on Unsplash

I walk down the dark corridor, hand trailing the wall. And there is nothing between me and that empty coldness, nothing but endless bitter darkness. They say this is the way we all must walk. That somewhere in the sea of starless night there is something more. Something better. But all I feel is pain. And cold. And dark. Dark so thick that I cannot even see the absence of things. My eyes create patterns in the nothing, a miasma of purple tide that does not truly exist.

Paper falls to my feet, scattering in some unfelt breeze. Papers bearing names, signed with crimson blood. Thousands churning at my feet, only I cannot read them, cannot hear the words of the voices upon the air.

There are people all around me but I am not among them. I can see them now, through the haze, but when I reach out my hand whispers through their formless shapes and they scatter from me, vanishing into formless mist.

I call out, but my voice is lost in the space between me and them and no sound carries.

And all around me are whispers, but I cannot understand them.

And all around me are fears and they are not my own yet they close in like mourning shrouds, holding me in place, trapping me here.

And there are nightmares but they follow me from troubled sleep and linger as though they are a part of me, dark shards in my heart that I do not understand. Sometimes I dream of shadows but they wear my face and sometimes I am not myself.

And then there is darkness, but ahead there is light, filtered from some unseen place. And the voices become intelligible, a wash of color and sound that coalesces inside of me, too much, too sudden.

But one day, I forget that I am broken.

The voices become memories that become the people I love.

And even though the memory of shadow still remains, my heart feels light once more.

I raise my arms and raise my voice and break the glass fog that cuts me off, and it shatters into a thousand blinding pieces that become a shield which I bear with head held high, because I made it. Because I survived.

Because any scars I bear are because I broke my glass cage, not because the shards cut my skin.

Because when I laugh it dissolves the chains around my wrists and breaks the storm clouds above my head and nothing seems so far away, now.

Nothing but the pain.

Which is but distant memory.

Over faraway hills.

Soon to fade away.

As all things do,

In the end.

Author’s Note:

I know this is a little deeper and a little rawer than what I usually write. And yes, I am alright. I wrote this during a time in my life that was very difficult, for various reasons, and I was hesitant to post it for that reason. However, as writing it made me feel a little more whole, I can only hope that it shall do the same for you. You are not alone, my friend, and you never were. You just have to break your glass cage to see it.

Thank you for allowing me my moment of raw sentimentality, I shall revert to LOTR memes and cheer henceforth. Love y’all.