“My bed is still empty.” I typed across the screen. “I don’t even know what that means, but it’s still empty.”
Tears had been threatening all day. I’d only let a few escape, but sucked the sobbs back down my throat. Two breaths in, three breaths out. I can do this.
The light will go out some days and the tunnel will be dark. It won’t get shorter, it won’t disappear; it will just wait for the light to go back on again so that we can continue our course.
“It doesn’t have to be full”, she typed back. And I thought, not of the things I’m wishing for.
The light can only stay lit for so long, eventually the darkness has to come: to teach us lessons, to batten down the hatch of our hearts, to remind us why we need the light in the first place. So when the candle gets blown out, or the switch gets flicked or the fuzz of the out of order tv burns out, remember the darkness has to come. It has to.