It isn’t the time. It isn’t the level. It isn’t the empty space. I’ve realized, finally, the measure of the breaking of a heart is proportional to the amount of silence you suffer through. That crushes even the matters of time and loss. Depth. Level. And that’s the correlation. The stillness supercedes all else as the cause for any pain. Ever. Nothing regenerates in a vacuum. Nothing repairs. It sits. Until it dissolves into something less noticeable. Less intrusive. That is the best outcome to hope for. And you look ahead to that. Patience. There is no way to categorize something such as this. Patience.
There really is no victory message to speak of. Nothing to tag on. I know this, and I know that. I do. Sure. Here. Holding steady. There’s just no place else for this to go. I don’t know if there ever was, but I never had to discover the answer to that. I just know Now. I know my every day. I’m familiar with the jumps, skips and replays. Selectively sorting good from bad. Favoring the one. I know. The missing. I know. It’s just me. I know that, too. So stop going on about it then…
…I will. Eventually. I Promise. That’s just not Now. That’s all I know.
Come and talk of all the things we did today. Here, and laugh about our funny little ways. While we have a few minutes to breathe. And I know that it’s time you must leave.