It starts somewhere in the deep pit of your stomach, the only natural place for the heaviness to accumulate. It accumulates so hard, so fast that you grope around blindly for that support. The feet give away and you really need to sit down. The muscles in your stomach clench, not that nice, anticipatory kind, but the kind that comes before the eyes start wanting to tear and the throat gets clogged with them, unshed.
And then the weight of it starts spreading, and you hope, now, it will abate, but it is hoping too soon, wishing to soon, misjudging the strength of it all. The weight never loosens, the lead of it still hold you down but it spreads, moving with its slow yet unstoppable and purposeful pace towards the guarded and sacred fortress, the heart. And the protected, innocent heart is startled. Unware and unprepared, it shudders, and then wails soundlessly, tearless but in all its glory with every inexplicable, unuttered, invaluable feeling that only the heart will ever be honest enough to own up to.
Loving can be a pain. Missing proves it every time.
The world is an illusion, people, just mere pawns, no one ever belongs to anybody, there is only you and your God, or your Conscience, if that’s your term… But you are always ever alone. Your entrance into the huge Stage is alone, as is your exit, however much celebrated or not. Then how knowing all the truths of life, of living, of souls, of worlds, of illusions, of untruths, can we still manage to get wrapped up in the intricately webbed net of love, longing, and pain? In our attempts to prove that we are indeed smarter, we end up proving what fools we are, every time.
I guess, finally, at the end of day, with all our choices, all our preferences, all our ideologies breaking down into a thousand and one minute slivers of glasses, we all are only Human. Mere mortals, who need those unreal ties, those illusionary attachments to the very world where one only ever will be a guest.
I am going to miss my friends, all of them, every thing bitter and not-so-sweet forgotten, I will miss them, knowing we may never see each other again, and nothing will ever be the same. The journey starts now. This is Real. And I’m so pathetically Human.