that moment in time
By Barb
I caught my breath.
It hung in my mouth, and soon after that, in the air. My throat clenched and the center of my stomach moved.
This is where I belong.
In the hazy realm where sleep settles on the mind and words become distant and are only heard in opportune instances, I heard his voice. I felt his own breath. I was too far into that state of reality versus unconsciousness that I did not move. I would not have moved anyway, for the sensation was too calm. It was what I was looking for, what I never knew I already had. I heard the sound of humor in his voice, not necessarily the words. They did not matter. I felt him smile. Inside, I smiled too.
My hair was moved off of my face and it took me a while to gather that it was because of his hand. His fingertips already gone by the time I sense their touch. Lightly on my cheek they leave a sign. Of love is what my heart is filled with. It may not have been an hour ago, and it may not be by morning, but now I can say I feel happy. I feel love for the life that I have not chosen. The life I had no say in. The life I did not plan or wish for. I love the life that was built on an unknown that only I did not know. In a way, I'm glad I did not have a choice. Mulder was right. I would not have brought myself here.
The blanket barely brushed my chin and the tea cups rattled ever so softly and the sound of the fish tank hummed in my ears. My eyelids were heavy but shaking. My neck ached just a little and his eyes were so soft their imprint on my skin was only felt and seen by me and only for a moment in time. That moment felt longer than it really was but that might have just been the effect of sleep on my understanding. Deep down inside I whisper to myself that it's because it needed to last longer. There are moments that can't fit into the time they are given.
Even this close to sleep, I feel a stretch in time, a slowing of seconds. It may just be my heartbeat in its steady, flowing rhythm that amplifies itself when you are still enough to let it speak to you. It may be his. Sometimes, when we are this close, I can't tell.
Why is it that this is the first time I've been able to allow myself the truth, that this is right. This is right. No matter what I thought in the past, I now know that everything is the way it should be and I had no right to want to change that. Peace. It's time to move on.
As his voice falls silent and I feel him move away, leaving a warm spot next to my head, another voice washes over my thoughts, a voice from the past. It's a very familiar voice because it is my own.
what am i doing? everyone tells me i'm insane but to hell with everyone. what has my life turned into? chasing the unknown and being chased, i'm lost, so lost. but i have him, or do i? is he here for me or for himself? why do i put up with this? i'm walking out i should just walk out no one would blame me ... i would. cancer. i have cancer, and why? so many whys but there would be less of them if only ... he only brings me pain. who am i to talk about pain. i can't look at a child without feeling my heart stop for an instant, without making my reality become more real than it usually is. i see death each day, is that why i can't simply feel scared when faced with it myself? i know i'm stubborn, but i'm human. i can't forget that. i'm human and i want things, so many things. all the things i am being denied. all the things i have. all things lead back to one fateful day in a cold basement.
Or do they?
Life after him does not make up life in its entirety. He is part of me, a large part, yes, but part. I'm not afraid to look at the importance of where I have been led or continue to be led anymore. I'm not afraid of its weight, for it has none anymore. I'm so grateful. Again, inside, I smile.
I now see all things that surround me, because at this moment, I am still, and for fear of losing it all I don't ever want to move again.
I caught my breath.
It hung in my mouth, and soon after that, in the air. My throat clenched and the center of my stomach moved.
This is where I belong.
In the hazy realm where sleep settles on the mind and words become distant and are only heard in opportune instances, I heard his voice. I felt his own breath. I was too far into that state of reality versus unconsciousness that I did not move. I would not have moved anyway, for the sensation was too calm. It was what I was looking for, what I never knew I already had. I heard the sound of humor in his voice, not necessarily the words. They did not matter. I felt him smile. Inside, I smiled too.
My hair was moved off of my face and it took me a while to gather that it was because of his hand. His fingertips already gone by the time I sense their touch. Lightly on my cheek they leave a sign. Of love is what my heart is filled with. It may not have been an hour ago, and it may not be by morning, but now I can say I feel happy. I feel love for the life that I have not chosen. The life I had no say in. The life I did not plan or wish for. I love the life that was built on an unknown that only I did not know. In a way, I'm glad I did not have a choice. Mulder was right. I would not have brought myself here.
The blanket barely brushed my chin and the tea cups rattled ever so softly and the sound of the fish tank hummed in my ears. My eyelids were heavy but shaking. My neck ached just a little and his eyes were so soft their imprint on my skin was only felt and seen by me and only for a moment in time. That moment felt longer than it really was but that might have just been the effect of sleep on my understanding. Deep down inside I whisper to myself that it's because it needed to last longer. There are moments that can't fit into the time they are given.
Even this close to sleep, I feel a stretch in time, a slowing of seconds. It may just be my heartbeat in its steady, flowing rhythm that amplifies itself when you are still enough to let it speak to you. It may be his. Sometimes, when we are this close, I can't tell.
Why is it that this is the first time I've been able to allow myself the truth, that this is right. This is right. No matter what I thought in the past, I now know that everything is the way it should be and I had no right to want to change that. Peace. It's time to move on.
As his voice falls silent and I feel him move away, leaving a warm spot next to my head, another voice washes over my thoughts, a voice from the past. It's a very familiar voice because it is my own.
what am i doing? everyone tells me i'm insane but to hell with everyone. what has my life turned into? chasing the unknown and being chased, i'm lost, so lost. but i have him, or do i? is he here for me or for himself? why do i put up with this? i'm walking out i should just walk out no one would blame me ... i would. cancer. i have cancer, and why? so many whys but there would be less of them if only ... he only brings me pain. who am i to talk about pain. i can't look at a child without feeling my heart stop for an instant, without making my reality become more real than it usually is. i see death each day, is that why i can't simply feel scared when faced with it myself? i know i'm stubborn, but i'm human. i can't forget that. i'm human and i want things, so many things. all the things i am being denied. all the things i have. all things lead back to one fateful day in a cold basement.
Or do they?
Life after him does not make up life in its entirety. He is part of me, a large part, yes, but part. I'm not afraid to look at the importance of where I have been led or continue to be led anymore. I'm not afraid of its weight, for it has none anymore. I'm so grateful. Again, inside, I smile.
I now see all things that surround me, because at this moment, I am still, and for fear of losing it all I don't ever want to move again.