what fool hath added water to the sea?

O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain,
That shall dis­til from these two ancient urns,
Than youth­ful April shall with all his show­ers

—Titus Andronicus

I lost my life as I knew it, piece by piece, over days and weeks and months. Now things will nev­er be the same. In moments of cri­sis, every­thing has been dis­tilled; what’s gone is gone for­ev­er, and what remains is what I will car­ry for the rest of my life.

And as the threads unrav­eled, I tore myself from the world away, my face unable to bear the bur­den to oth­ers.

2 comments

  1. Also, some might call that a good thing.

    Of course, when you put it that way, change sucks. It always does. But when every­thing you know is torn away from you, and all that’s left is your­self. It means only one thing.

    It’s your world, with your own rules, dri­ven only by your own will to make things hap­pen. The way I see it, things can only start get­ting bet­ter from here on end.

    New chap­ters in life with unknowns to tra­verse. How’s that not one hell of a game to play?

    • I can’t tell what the future is going to hold. At best, I think it could be either good or bad, but what I most often feel now is the loss of what I had. It’s so hard to think of new oppor­tu­ni­ties when I’m over­whelmed by that.

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