It’s time.

She opened her mouth. Wide. Her face disappeared behind that black hole filled with teeth. And she started to scream. Loud. It was a long, long held cry. The one destroying the world and all her life before that time. The cry of pain and sorrow. Of loss. And another loss, and yet another loss… it was a cry of grief.

I just stood there watching her.

Open your heart. Let it out. Open your hands. Let it go. Let them go. Let them all go. It’s their time.

It was long past their time.

She screamed. Long, endless cry. There was nothing else in the world but that primal sound. Mountains were collapsing, rivers raging, skies falling. Like a siren of destruction, her voice was not human. It was a sound of all devastation in the world. And she was not about to stop. Like she was taking the breath through her skull. Her heart opened, and pain started flowing out. In torrents.

I felt it. I felt her pain, because she was me. She held it for all these years. And she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Through deafening cry and shaking ground I came behind her. And I just hugged her. She didn’t stop. I laid my head between her shoulder blades and closed my eyes. She was me. Taking it all for me. Since were two or three. She took every blow and every fall. Beatings and tears, loss of life and love. She was brave. More than she will ever grasp. But she couldn’t take it anymore. It was time for her to let it all go. To put them all to rest. To say goodbye to loved ones, to all she held dear to her heart: parents, lovers, cats and dogs, past events and long-gone friends. To say goodbye to old life. To cleanse her soul. To carry on, new and reborn.

So I let her scream. I let her destroy the world. I didn’t care about any of it. We didn’t need them any longer. Not any of them. All I ever needed was her. I loved her. At that moment I knew. And I gave her gentle love. All the love I had in my wounded heart I let spilling to her.

I can’t take it anymore. – I heard her heart saying.
Yes, you can. You are strong and you are brave. The bravest one I know. You just need to let them go. Let the pain go too. It’s hard, I know, you build your life around it. But they are gone. And they’re never coming back. The life you are waiting to go on is not the one you are left with.

It was difficult for her. She’s spend over twenty years keeping dead things alive. Like Frankenstein. She had been too young to say goodbye. She did the same every time something was about to end.  Perpetual resurrection. Perpetual loss. Perpetual pain.

But today she knew it was time. Time to let dead things die.

So she screamed and she cried. The pain of loss was stashed for a long time.

But she wanted to live.

I wanted us to live.

It was our time.

Comments