Eternal Suffering
What are you most afraid of? Losing the radiance of life or misplacing someone dear in your world or finding yourself forlorn? We all dread things until we encounter something more harrowing to fear, and we truly cannot know what that thing might be. At times it proves worse than we imagine.
I always feared losing the one person I cherished so deeply – she was the love of my life. But one day she slipped away. I struggled boundlessly – the pain was searing. I was asphyxiating, yet somehow survived, each day dragging like an imprisoned bird. But you know what remained whole? The hope of her returning, a constant refrain blossoming with each breath I took. My heart could not contain such abundance yet still it consumes me as fully as it is able.
It is tremendously challenging to move forward with this hope perpetually tethered to me like a shadow, no matter where I go or how I live. In every moment I envision sharing with her when she comes back, but she never does. She is engaged in her own bliss, forgetting I even breathe. Still, my obstinate heart disregards me and persists in hoping.
So for now I dread this hope never fading and never releasing me to joy in my life. It feels a ceaseless burden that I will suffer interminably with no escape. This is because nothing captivates me anymore – not a friend, not a lover, not an adventure, not a conversation. I crave but a moment's relief yet it never arrives. Even if I find some delight it vanishes in an instant, as if predestined, and this cycle recurs unendingly.
At times I savor an activity for some minutes, at most an hour, before my anguish returns to subdue me with its weight. And the root of it all is hoping she will come back, because secretly I still desperately wish for her return – to love her wholly and unveil what I harbor, to transform myself for her, to become better for her. But she never returns.
I strive to improve myself, pushing through mightily. Yet when I feel this hope of reunion shatter again, it inflicts another gash upon my heart. And these wounds amass swiftly – I dread the day no heart remains, no tender tissue left to shred.
