The Eternal Truth

  All of us eventually reach a conclusion that the only constant we will ever have is change. Being humans we are reminded time and time again by fate and experiences that nothing of this world is ours to rightfully claim. Even the strongest bonds can feel like a well-placed illusion, our euphoria questionable and occurring by chance rather than opportunity. The need to dive head-first into everything has become so prevalent that the pace of life itself has altered. Time being the only factor 21^st century humans can’t control has gained precedence over everything. In a world in which children receive their first wristwatch before they even have a chance to ask for their first toy, it isn’t alarming that being early is more important than being human.

  Somewhere along the past there came a point where family dinners became confined to soap operas and having more friends on facebook than you could actually ever meet (much less confide in) became a symbol of social acceptance- in some cultures even a status symbol.

  We stood by as our essence became substantial and drifted into nothingness; pathos something you could wash away with liquor, joy something you could purchase with a price tag and emotions something you could fix with a few layers of makeup.

  I try to think of another life for us -a day which doesn’t start with us cursing at our alarms, in which we don’t need concealers to hide our dark circles, one in which we don’t double our caffeine intake during our finals –and I can’t. The very notion of sparing enough time to watch the sunset with someone I value is absurd enough to elicit laughter.

 Do you feel it as I do?

The hysteria rising.

  We let ourselves drown in our work. Tidal waves ebb and flow. Using our jobs as excuses to avoid confrontations. The pang in your heart when your virtual friend doesn’t reply.

Glistening medals on your walls. Crying yourself to sleep. Feeling worthless.

Denial. Denial. Denial.

Solution? Let your work consume you.

  Can you see him yet? No, but surely you can feel him.Ah, there he is.He hugs you from behind and ties your eyes with a crimson dripping bandage. You think this will heal you. You let him.

The hysteria settles in. You let it.

  The bathroom tiles. Your bunched hands in your hair. It becomes normal. The insanity. It wants to define you. You let it.

   You need something. You can’t remember its name, Peace. The word filters through the grit in your memory. You’re restless and worried sick. You've done nothing wrong but you feel more frightened than you ever have.

  You blame the system. You turn to pills. Your life fast forwards. Wearing apathy’s cloak you watch as a third person as your decisions are made for you. You don’t care. Your life fast forwards. You let it.

  Until that day. The day you wake up to edges. Pitch black. One foot in front of the other. Frantic hands searching for the memory of light. Your helplessness brings you on your knees. Your limbs seek the ground but come up empty. You’re falling. And you know that even if you’ll land you will never be the same again.

You want it to be over. You beg for it to be a dream. You have never felt this numb before. You want to accept it but you can’t.

You crawl to your mirror. What do I have? You ask yourself. I have the world.

You wait for the rush to come and take you, you long for the memory of purpose.

You can’t endure this knowledge. You could never brace for impact. It resonates from within. You cannot hide from this.

You realize that you have the world.

You understand that the world is nothing.

Your batteries die. Your flashlight flickers off. You let it.

Do not let it.

Get up. Now. Right now.

But its dark. You don’t even know which way is up. Its easier to just swim down.

My voice feels like a joke.

What would I know? How could I know?

After all I’m not the one on the ground. I’m not the one coming to terms with the eternal truth. I’m not the one who is dealing with death. How could anyone ever understand you? How could anyone ever feel this level of raw acute pain and still be standing? No one is that strong.

You tell me that I know nothing. You tell me that I could never relate.

You have nothing but at least you have pain. It doesn’t ebb only flows. You claim it and for the first time it claims you back.

You hear me. You ignore me.

You hear others. You silence them.

You convince yourself that you are better off without the world. That the world is better off without you.

  You hear another voice. It pierces through everything. You crawl towards it. For the first time in eons you do something out of want rather than need. The voice is moving. You get up. You walk towards it-legs quaking after years of disuse- The voice runs. You chase it.

  The voice of foreign laughter -your laughter- plays on your lips and then light. Blinding light. Eyes closed. Footsteps desperate and edging towards your escape and solace. You inch towards the dark threshold.

You tell yourself you don’t belong here. You’ve given up on the light.

  A tug. A pull and you move towards the origin the voice speaks and you’re flooded by memories. Better memories. Of shaking from laughter and crying form happiness.

  Here he comes.  The guilt. You think you don’t deserve this. You feel the salt on your lips but then you don’t. The voice wipes away your tears. You let it. Flummoxed by its strength you turn towards it. You open your eyes. You face yourself.

  It’s overwhelming. But then there are hands to hold. There are shoulders to cry on. There are people who want to help. You let them.

  No, you aren't the same person. Yes, the shadows call to you. But if you try, you can keep them at bay.

This time I tell you differently.

A story I wish I had heard rather than discovered on my own.

Death is an eternal truth. But there is one of higher candor, one of greater magnitude. There is one you have to believe in.

Breaking is easy but healing is possible. We heal each other. There will always be healers. There will always be people who thrive off your smile. Let them.