20 year long death

It’s been over 20 years since we last saw each other. I really thought this time would be different, we’re in our 40s for crying out loud, it’s not a high school any more. But I was wrong.
I sat at the airport completely numb. Like I wasn’t even in my body. Like I’m watching a movie, thinking this can only happen in the movies. I couldn’t believe I went through it all over again. We literally relived the chapter I thought we closed 20 years ago. Well I thought I closed it. And I re-opened it again. What on earth possessed me?
From that moment I didn’t exist. I died a horrible death, I was buried silently, without knowing, never to be found or spoken about again. Love doesn’t hurt. Love kills you, over and over again. And the funniest thing, on the outside, everything was the same, exactly the way I left it a month ago. Except that I died. So who is coming back to that same life? I didn’t know.



I’m calling into the emptiness
I’m calling into nothingness
I’m calling into the silence
I’m calling into the past that never was
I’m calling into the future that will never be
I’m calling…
And the heaviness of the call is weigh me down

The pull

When do you stop hoping? Why the pull when there’s no response? I keep thinking about the pain body. Is it the pain of the situation that I’m attached to? Or is it just to remind me I can’t get away no matter how hard I try? Or I need to learn to appreciate the pull without acting on it or expecting anything in return? Being pulled into emptiness, into nothing…into the big open space without an echo…being pulled into silence to just stand there with arms wide open and nothing coming in. Over and over again.


Your boundaries set the standard of your life. What you don’t allow will determine what enters your life.

The harder the lesson

They say the harder the lesson the stronger the soul. Yes, once the lesson is learned. Otherwise it’s just a repetition of a very painful pattern.


You never know when you’re going to make a connection with a place, with a person, with a myth. Something speaks to you in a moment, perhaps it wakes up a memory that’s been living with you for thousands of years. Or creates a brand new memory to stay with you for eternity.

Nothing else

I think about you until it hurts
There’s nothing else left to do
I cried all the tears
And bled all the fears
There’s nothing else left to do

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