The space between stars is best described as nothing, which has created everything.
Stars- they are vast, glorious, and powerful.
They have been used for generations to guide us, marked time, and shown us who we really are.
Stars have showed me company during those hard nights when I was all alone.
And without the darkness between, none of this would be possible.
So the space between stars is best described as everything born from the nothingness.
The loud speakers broke through the silence, “I am sorry but you just lost the game.”
I look around as people vanish around me. One by one they go, turning into pixels.
Last to go is the man staring into my eyes, his sword deep in my chest. Luckily, the safety protocol was on for the VR set. Unluckily, when I go to the arena next week to fight for real, there will be no safety protocols.
“Restart the game please.”
“Doing that now, sir.” The robotic voice of the game says back to me.
This is my 87th time fighting under these conditions, and mathematically they are the same conditions that will be in the game next week. At this point even if I win this next game, I am practically only giving myself a 1 in 88 chance of winning. But I have to keep trying, I have to keep training, I have to be able to give my family hope. I can’t fail. I can’t be weak. I must win this game.
Sometimes I am lucky. Sometimes I am good. Sometimes I am happy.
I woke up at approximately half past whenever. I look out my window. It’s an inch and a half thick. Bulletproof. Me proof. Brown leaves scatter the ground outside. This widow faces a lake. A Forrest surrounding the lake. It looks like a place people would vacation to get away from the world. Quiet, peaceful, secluded. All of a sudden I hear a familiar click. The electric has been turned back on. Soon I will hear foot steps. Soon I will learn if I’m lucky or not. I sit on my mattress. It’s dirty and plain. But still the softest thing in the room. I click the TV on. It hasn’t played any shows since the last time I was unlucky. Punishment or permanent I’m not sure. Maybe both. I reach my hands forward, and lightly touch the static. The fuzzy feeling in my fingers stay there. It feels good to be touched by something I have the power in. To know what I touch can’t hurt me. I will hold my hands here for hours if I can. It helps me feel.
Creak. Creak.
Steps.
Creak creak creak.
Louder steps.
Clank
Unlocked
Creeeeeaaaaaak.
Door open.
“Are you ready to play”
I guess I’m unlucky today.
If wishes fell like rain, then certainly I am the storm, Wooosh, with dreams adorn
Pitter-patter, drip-drop, their echoes in the air, Trickling like water, a deep blue river fair.
In this reverie, I envision a brand new day, Where people pause and contemplate, I pray.
No more divisions, judgments, or disdain, For we are united, our hearts remain.
He's labeled too left, she's deemed too right , Love is misread, and “they” cause people to fright
But I hold firm, unwavering in my belief, That harmony can reign, dissolving all grief.
Thoughts intertwine, dreams gently unfurled, My wishes echo, a love that embraces the world.
For every soul, deserving of love and praise, In this tapestry of existence, we find our ways.
So let the wishes cascade, like a soothing rainstorm, If wishes fell like rain, then we all can be the storm.
Once he made his choice, I wonder if he realized he made a thousand choices for me. Choosing to cheat, was choosing to betray me. It was choosing that I would be devastated. It was choosing that I would be feel lonely. It was choosing that I would never trust anyone the same. It was choosing that everything I knew, everything I loved, would NEVER be the same. It was choosing himself over anything of me. So now, I’m here to write a letter to say goodbye. Goodbye to the safety of my relationship. Goodbye to my trust. Goodbye to my peace. I hope to meet you all again soon, and until we meet, stay free please.
“Now close your eyes and go to a safe place” I don’t normally believe this therapy bullshit, But I’ll try.
I see a waterfall, without a roar, calm and kind It leads to a small pond, with crystal clear water Lilly pads, the occasional frog, and flat rocks for perching across the water. Tall, green grass is swaying in the wind. The sun is out, shining through the redwood trees The trees, I swear they are talking with one another. Giving each other encouragements to grow strong and big to protect everyone inside this oasis. My hand touches the dirt, rich brown soil, with all the nutrients to support the trees. And yet, fragile enough I can hold it in one hand. The flowers are always blooming. The only noise is the water splashing against the rocks. I feel warm, I feel strong, I feel weak, I feel peace. A single deer appears. The truest of prey animals. It sees me, with my feet in the water, and yet it doesn’t run. It continues to eat. Because here, we are safe, here we can trust, here we can’t hurt one another, here we can stay until the bad thoughts go away.
Love takes a lot of work. But cheating takes a lot more work. So why would one choose to work harder. That’s the question that keeps going in my head. There is no accident in cheating, it’s a million different choices that could have been stopped at any point. He could have stopped when he gave her his snap. He could have stopped when she asked for pictures. He could have stopped when he chose to take off his wedding ring. It is intentional. It is hurtful. Choosing to rebuild and try again is even harder though. Choosing to try to work through this as the spouse who was cheated on, and have the knowledge that he chose against me so many times. And yet I’m choosing to try again. I still love him, and I hate what he has done. This duality is keeping me awake at nights. One day, I am hoping that the choices start to come naturally again.
