Some canyons in me are carved by erosion from slow and steady rivers of pain. Many twist and meander with their polished smooth edges, while others are more concealed—barely visible from overhead, but still deeply cut and scattered with hidden caverns. From a distance, altogether, I imagine they could even be beautiful, like intricate lace tattoos adorning the surface of my heart.
Not the case with this new hole in me. This void wasn’t caused by the gentle erosion of time, but by the violent collision of reality hitting me with all the force of an incoming meteor. The disruption of the natural order strikes me with such an impact it threatens the core and throws all of me off balance. The edges of this crater aren’t polished, but sharp, jagged, and in many places still burning.
I have another hole like this, much older, the boundaries carefully camouflaged with overgrowth, so no one sees. Sometimes I hike back to it when no one is watching and sit at the edge. I know these holes don’t grow back together, they can’t - the nerves are instantly cauterized. And that’s why I don’t know what to feel. So much energy transmitted through those nerves—I feel the pain of them severing, then emptiness—a deep hollow void.
I have a growing resentment for those who try to fill my emptiness with shallow, scripted encouragement, for any who try to distract me from the truth, or for the rest of creation, which just keeps spinning. Likewise, I’m weary of hearing about some sadistic master plan which scripted the murder of my mother for some greater unseen good. Bullshit.
I wish, if only for a second, the world would require nothing more from me. Because this crater is mine. And right now, I want to lay in the fetal position at the bottom of it or sit alone in the dark and stare at the truth with mounting anger that has no place to dissipate. There is no one to hate. It just is. Rather, it just was, and then it suddenly wasn’t. If I ever climb out of here, I will stand at the edge and scream indefinitely at the top of my lungs.
I’ll defend and protect this pain because, at the moment, it is all I have left.
Honestly, it might be the only thing that was ever truly mine.
