I know I tend to distance myself from anyone involved in a situation I'm having a hard time with or feel I'm failing in. And it seems, I am not the only one to do so.
He's escaping from my eyes. Can't say I'm surprised, actually. Intensity, whether good or bad, can never be maintained or endured for long. I cannot sit here and pretend I care nothing for him and today I have come to realize that I am not going to see him before he leaves. Nothing has been said outright to that effect, but it's one of those intuitions, the one that says you're fighting what is meant to be by being stubborn.
Somehow, this desire, though real and true, to see him once more before he leaves from my life, most likely never to return to the circumstance we have now is… futile. I've spent the last three days or so fighting this feeling. Ever since I began recovering from my sickness earlier this week, this instinct has settled upon my shoulders, surrounded my mind like a cloud upon a mountain top the cold birthing of spring from winter.
It is not a disconnect, in my mind but a withdrawing, which has me feeling as though half of my souls is being drawn toward the other side of the world. Which is absolute silliness for I will not be there; I will not see the living nightmare of that battlefield, not yet anyways. Things will never be as they are in this moment, I am losing something precious, I feel, and the loss will not destroy me, I already feel aspects of myself strengthening from this encounter with a soul so like mine.
As a young teen I fancied running away to Europe and joining a band of travelling gypsies, the idea still holds some allure and glamour to be honest. But honestly, I could perhaps spend a week that way before moving on. The nomad in me has been tamed over the last seven years, but is reawakening to the gentle call of the zephyrs about me. It is not yet time to act, but it is closing in, and I must be ready, and I feel I will not be. I must become established before the sunset of this era. I must, it is imperative.
I have some very good friends, mentors even, who are seriously considering moving to Israel, and frankly, I have been saying America is falling since my… seventh grade year of school and have been thinking about other countries I will be ending up in. Perhaps, however, I am not meant to leave, perhaps I am meant to endure. The problem is… I'm not even quite sure. I feel like an apprentice whose master has left them too early in the process of training to become a master themselves. It is a time of trial and test, I suppose. Let us see what metal I am made of.
When I apprised them of my current… social circumstances, it was as if I could hear in my mentor's voice the thought "this girl is going to have her heart broken, melted down into liquid fire and burned up into the stratosphere". It was as if their hearts were already breaking for me, probably because they had been down the path of separation due to duty and they know how emotionally rending it is.
During that conversation, I was asked what I want to do as a writer, a question I have been asked many times before, but this time I truly had an answer: the darkness is looming on American borders, a darkness which will be contained within those same borders because it is of our own making—I want to be a light in that darkness and a voice of hope, guidance, realism, truth and realization. I want to help people see that we must see the world for what it is, not what we wish it to be. To accept responsibility for the situations we create for ourselves, to find the courage to climb out of the graves we have dug for ourselves and give our souls a new, courageous and moral start at life.
A good friend of mine helped me find that purpose. I say friend but that word is so inaccurate, so inappropriate and inadequate. In a way, we helped each other traverse the geographies of our own minds and realities in the darkness of our pasts and presents to find a path into our futures; journeys which for each of us will be fraught with adversity of different kinds and paths leading into different realms altogether.
We have been tempting sleeping titans with this war in Iraq, and sacrificing men and women of precious and rare metal for this war. Not titans outside of us so much as titan within ourselves as a nation and the time for waking will soon be upon us and those mammoths that we have brought back from slumber will wreak havoc upon our land. Then our homeland will be bathed in the blood of the hopeless, the weak, and the irresponsible. And our soldiers, and having foreseen their country's downfall and having still fought for her causes, will return from Hell feeling as if all they have fought for was worthless, the lives of their friends, comrades and family given for less and worse than nothing.
There are things from we that we as citizens force ourselves to acknowledge, see, and understand out of respect for our soldiers. Ignorance of the people is one of the greatest insults we can give to those who fight for us. Let us see the videos they send home, let us read their letters as though they are the bibles of this war. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters are being destroyed by this war! Whether they are on the battlefields themselves or in the homeland awaiting the return of those called across the world.
There was a set of lyrics stuck in my head yesterday that I could not shake, "hot as hell, cold as ice" and I kept thinking "why, why these two lines, why do they keep repeating, why won't the song just continue on". It finally struck me why, because that is how I work and that is how I deal with things. I am the embodiment of opposites, of actions and reactions altogether. What was termed "an overactive imagination" when I was a child has allowed me to see into realms, minds and situations beyond myself. I have seen family still living die, I have met lovers that never existed, I have lost friends to the hands of enemies, and lost myself to countless episodes of torture.
Within my mind is contained universes unknown. It is why I can see things I am "not supposed to" and know things I "never should". Through the spirit we are connected with our fellow man, and it is through the imagination, the mind's eye, that what flows through that connection is interpretted and set down before us. Perhaps I am not as empathic as I once thought, perhaps my lines of communication and my ability to translate what is received is simply more versatile. Perhaps, that is why I am meant to speak to the hearts of people, perhaps... perhaps...
This is not ended, but only just begun. The journey is afoot, and with it my mind.