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أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

 Been awhile I've needed to write, where to begin? Apartness remains an inescapable feature of my existence here, something I've hated but known for so, so long. I think it was easier to survive such eras when I was young because I had the backdrop of my dark ages and various mechanisms to distract or drown the challenges of being apart. This evolution though, after having been revisited by my beloved the past few years and being joined by my Gift, has no escape, no simple release button. The weight of the goal set in the mind is real, and it only seems to get heavier over time. Perhaps part of the wisdom of age is learning to let go of things outside one's scope, even as it seems everything in life is encompassed by such weakness. 

Maybe old age will make me wiser, but damn it I'm already ancient, felt a thousand years old at various points since high school, though normal time merely years pass. Of my beacons, the apparent detachment and distance of my Primera weighs on me, on top of the absence He wills my lights to show. 

How much can one share, when the window only opens in one direction? Of what worth is it to release of one's self a portion, while unable to take in the same from the ones who comprise my being? I've long sought to maintain identity, the core of the self that keeps memory of who it is, what it is, where it wants to go. Maybe it's fitting that as time and distance stretch into what appear to human eyes as vast empty, endless fields of space, parts of me seem harder to grasp, harder to hold on to. I do not know what End my Rabb has in store, but I would have to consider it cosmic irony of the grandest scale, that He intertwine with my life the kinds of beautiful people that He has, only to keep them apart from me. I know, a bit melodramatic. As are many of my undercurrents that find little expression. Truth is truth though, and my deal with Him stands, as long as He keeps life in this body. To find my beloved, in the time and place I seek them, the price is anything. Everything. Howsoever many tests He would line up on the road in front me, all that I have is the moving forward, stepping past my own stumbles and mistakes, going beyond what is physically tiresome or mentally absent or whatever kind of limitations we humans are so fond of possessing. I have to reach onward, reach outward. Even if He blinded my sight from those lights in my sky, even if He kept my beloved out of reach in every sense for this life. Whatever shell of the self can keep going, it must, it will iA. 

Perhaps at the end of this journey, I can serenade my beloved with verses perfectly suited to them, and in turn, be granted the joy and priviledge of soaking in their smiles and radiance. A worthwhile aim for a single lifetime, don't ya think?