There’s an ache inside my soul, that stretches to the depths of my entire being. It swirls around like a wrecking ball, knocking me down, knocking me down. If you’ve ever had an ache like this – that cleared out all the empty space inside of you – then you know it doesn’t show up gently. It doesn’t fall softly to the ground as snowflakes do. It doesn’t land steady in the blankets of your bed. Instead, it swallows you whole at the kitchen table one night and drags you freezing through the bitter cold. And you know it will get better but in that moment when the force of feeling is falling out of you – the whole world stops. It stops and it scatters all the pieces of your insides to different corners of the earth. And then it waits. It waits for you to pick up every tiny microscopic shred of the person you thought you were.
_ _ _
I sit here on a Sunday afternoon, in the bedroom of my grandparents – pillows propped up behind me, voices of people plucked specifically for my life, flowing up the stairs. I remember what this room used to look like when my grandparents were still here. I remember the paper on the walls and they way we used to fall asleep on nights when slumber parties were accepted.
And I mull over in my head the possibility of feeling even lonelier then I ever thought possible. Could the ache inside me really reach a level I never knew existed? Could it really sink down so deep I was floating on my own?
The answer is yes.
Three little letters.
They mean something and nothing. Yes there are levels inside of us we never knew existed. Yes it can sink deeper then any person ever learned how to swim in. Yes we can choose to let us engulf us, yes we can choose to let it go.
Let it go. I suggest you just let it go. And I know it won’t happen over night. And I know it won’t happen when we really want it to but it’s coming. Hold tight. There’s a rainbow, or a light – or whatever other metaphoric ending wrapped in beauty – waiting for you.
It’s just waiting. Go and get it.