There's
a cord between you and I. You, I'm sure, have taken scissors or a
knife to yours, made a clean cut and tied a tight knot in its frayed
end.
I
didn't. I couldn't.
And
unless both do so, a connection, though it may be faint and no more
than a fragile thread, remains. A one-sided, unfair exchange. I sense
you, but you can't me.
You
wanted nothing more to do with me, and yet your shadow still comes to
visit. At odd times. Your shadow keeps irregular hours. It comes when
I'm quietly reading, gazing vacantly at a distant point, washing my
hair, or just as I'm about to drift into the land of sleep. Your
shadow slips in thinking I won't know it's there, but I always feel
its presence. Its unmistakable breath. A noticeable cool breeze.
Other
times, it will plant a thought and your name will enter my brain with
an elastic band snap or a bubble gum pop like Batman fighting evil in
Gotham City. KAPOW!
Once
upon a time, I could have been your Robin, your sidekick, but by the
time you realised that it was too late. And so now your shadow
stealthily calls in. Drops by, hangs out. Flutters pages as I read or
wafts a chill breeze around my face, feet and hands. My fingers are
like icicles, my toes cubes of ice. I no longer feel around my flat
for draughts or air pockets like I used to do because I know it's
only you. You seem to have this need to check in from time to time,
but refuse to acknowledge this truth to yourself on a human level.
You and
I are twin souls; pearls from the same single strand. Did you know
that?
I
should have cut the cord when I threatened I would. I haven't.
Why
didn't I? I tried...
I
censored thoughts. I archived evidence of your being. I did
everything I could, bar the one thing I knew I should. Cut the damn
cord! The string that ran from my throat to yours, that tethered me
to you like a bobbing kite.
I
couldn't bring myself to do it. To close the window to my soul
completely. I don't know how you could. How you could cut your cord
and tie a sailor's knot. Do you regret it?
I like
to think so, but probably not. I was TROUBLE. A vortex of conflicting
emotions. You could never have helped me to untangle them; at times,
you unwittingly aggravated them. Unseen, I would erupt. The fiery
passionate nature that my family know me for would come to the fore,
bounce off the walls of my flat, and then descend into Churchill's
black dog of depression.
Why
should you have to deal with that?
Nobody
should have to deal with that.
Fear
holds me back and I let it. There's safety in fear and singularity.
Surely you realise that?
What
the soul wants isn't so simple to perform. The human in each of us
pulls our strings. Goes against what our soul really wishes or
ignores the lessons we've come here to learn.
Severing
human-to-human communication dispelled that odour of fear. The air
became fragrant and spring-like. The darkness disbanded. Now I
wouldn't, I couldn't fail you. I couldn't be rejected like a
misshapen mannequin.
But
dismissing your shadow was a step too far. I didn't want to cut and
burn like you like a cancerous tumour from my life, although I know I
might have made it seem that way. I had to. I was never going to
slice the cord all the way through as if I was slitting the neck of a
stunned beast. I don't mind the sight of blood, but it's not in me to
be the one to shed it.
We're
the same you and I.
Picture Credit: Peter Francis