Trying

My dear, I don't know what to do or say today. Won't you help me decide? Should I tell you what I have been meaning to?I have been trying, really trying. But if that does not work, because it has not so far, should I cut and open my heart out on blank pages of paper instead? Would you listen then, would you understand? You remember our secret place, don't you? I am convinced that even after you forget and I forget, that place will not forget us. It will remember every word we said, even the echoes of the thoughts that we did not utter.. I am sorry if that frightens you, but you should have been wiser. In my defense, I did warn you.

 On the way to the place I tried to tell you and on the way from the place I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you as soon as we got there and I tried to tell you when it was almost time to leave. I tried to tell you in the dark-light. Once, I came close to telling you, but I was rudely interrupted by the dog that started to whimper. You see, don't you, how hard I tried?

I find myself at a crossroad now. Should I sit here and do nothing? Nobody is asking anything of me after-all. Should I stare back at the empty sky and try desperately to grab from it some sense of self, some reason to fill the void I have created? Or should I keep walking, half-asleep, only half-aware, only half-looking at this house of broken glass and mirrors that we call life? Now it is too late to tell you. Now I will just suppose that by some miracle you know, that you had a moment of epiphany or that the trees in that place told you what I could not. 

So long. As always.