Breaking Spring

Deserted. There is a thread on my ankle, the rest has been cut away. There is a bloody arrow in my hand as I limp along a red desert road alone, headed for the edge. 

I’ve tried this journey and never succeeded. I always turn back. They say doing the same thing over and over again is madness. 

I expected different results but I had already read the book of me and him, and I knew how it ended.

If it had a title it would have been something to the tune of ‘The Argument’ or ‘Friction’ or my personal favourite, ‘The Booty Call’ -- But maybe that was the sequel. 

No one word can ever sum up anything as complicated as the relationship between two people.

It’s a landscape. A picture says a thousand words but none painted could ever accurately depict the shades, the chapters and the moments you experience.

All lush forests, deep hidden valleys, beaches, then its farm land. Mountains snow-capped peaks and rocky outcrops with jagged edges and lastly it is a desert, expanding desolate dry earth. I’m lying face down in it. The glare hurts my eyes. Stranded. Thirsty. Alone.

Maybe if I saw his shadow on the horizon I would head after it. But there isn’t any sign.

So I trek, looking for the other side. The dusty signpost that says how far to go disheartens me. I know I can make it, I just have to have the will to put one foot in front of the other.

It’s always the mental struggle that gets you down. I weather the beating sun, the exposure, determined. Relationships are intangible things but to free yourself from them it’s as though you must slowly unbind yourself from a tangled thread.

I want to dissect the thread. But I could spend an eternity examining it. I try to walk straight and I hope this time I’m not going in circles.

Feelings can’t be rushed.

I’ve journeyed past a sign that read ‘Denial’. I must trudge on until my steps become lighter and I see the sign at the edge that reads ‘Acceptance’.

Perhaps I can see it in the distance but its many miles away, a dot, a mirage.

He could intercept me at any time and send me back to the start.

But this time I don’t even see his shadow, he has decided to let me, let him go. Or have I decided not to chase illusions.

It’s frightening to be alone. My back straightens, I breathe. There is space, for miles around me.

I want to get a bus, and just get to the end. But I can’t. There is no way to speed it up -- only ways to slow it down.

It doesn’t work that way.

It always takes longer to cure something than it did to acquire it.

My heart needs time to mend. I reached and pulled cupids bloody arrow from my beating heart. The congealed serum dries in the hot desert air.

I stare ahead, my parched lips parted, knowing I can get there. Time will heal the wound in my flesh.

I will recover. I will find water, I will find life again.

There is a thread on my ankle, the rest has been cut away. There is a bloody arrow in my hand as I limp along a red desert road alone.

I’ve tried this journey and never succeeded. I always turn back. They say doing the same thing over and over again is madness. 

I expected different results but I had already read the book of me and him, and I knew how it ended.

If it had a title it would have been something to the tune of ‘The Argument’ or ‘Friction’ or my personal favourite, ‘The booty call’ -- But maybe that was the sequel. 

No one word can ever sum up anything as complicated as the relationship between two people.

It’s a landscape. A picture says a thousand words but none painted could ever accurately depict the shades, the chapters and the moments you experience.

All lush forests, deep hidden valleys, beaches, then its farm land. Mountains snow-capped peaks and rocky outcrops with jagged edges and lastly it is a desert, expanding desolate dry earth. I’m lying face down in it. The glare hurts my eyes. Stranded. Thirsty. Alone.

Maybe if I saw his shadow on the horizon I would head after it. But there isn’t any sign.

So I trek, looking for the other side. The dusty signpost that says how far to go disheartens me. I know I can make it, I just have to have the will to put one foot in front of the other.

It’s always the mental struggle that gets you down. I weather the beating sun, the exposure, determined. Relationships are intangible things but to free yourself from them it’s as though you must slowly unbind yourself from a tangled thread.

I want to dissect the thread. But I could spend an eternity examining it. I try to walk straight and I hope this time I’m not going in circles.

Feelings can’t be rushed.

I’ve journeyed past a sign that read ‘Denial’. I must trudge on until my steps become lighter and I see the sign at the edge that reads ‘Acceptance’.

Perhaps I can see it in the distance but its many miles away, a dot, a mirage.

He could intercept me at any time and send me back to the start.

But this time I don’t even see his shadow, he has decided to let me, let him go. Or have I decided not to chase illusions.

It’s frightening to be alone. My back straightens, I breathe. There is space, for miles around me.

I want to get a bus, and just get to the end. But I can’t. There is no way to speed it up -- only ways to slow it down.

It doesn’t work that way.

It always takes longer to cure something than it did to acquire it.

My heart needs time to mend. I reached and pulled cupids bloody arrow from my beating heart. The congealed serum dries in the hot desert air.

I stare ahead, my parched lips parted, knowing I can get there. Time will heal the wound in my flesh.

I will recover. I will find water, I will find spring again.