I Had Him

I had him. Right here. In my arms. I can still feel his weight and his skinny arms around my neck. Devon was right here. I could smell the sweet familiar scent of his warm little body and feel his hair against my cheek. I had him, safe in the circle of my arms. Safe and alive and happy.

But then, I woke up, sitting in my father’s chair with my head twisted to one side and a pain in my neck. Startled awake and still half in a fog, the tears came. Because it wasn’t true. He’s gone. He was torn away from my arms in life just as quickly as he vanished as soon as I came awake. Groggy and confused, I felt the loss as clearly and sharply as on that first day, and I cried and cried.

This system is crazy and it is cruel. We are left in a limbo, bouncing between depression one day and anxiety the next. It needs to stop. I can’t take the worry and stress on top of a broken heart. To be anxious one moment because you feel the trial looming closer like doomsday, and the next in despair because you don’t think it will ever happen, is too much to ask of someone. Enough is enough. I can’t keep going this way. I don’t know the answers to the simplest questions, I dread hearing things for the first time in open court where there is no place to hide and cry, and I speculate wildly with my formidable imagination spinning out of control. I can’t keep balancing in this place of uncertainty – always on the edge. I just can’t do it any longer. You can only spin out the tension before the climax for so long before the spring breaks. How many times can you ready yourself to fight a dragon only to have it vanish in a puff of smoke at the last moment without going mad? Is it just behind that rock? Is it creeping up behind you? Has it flown down to the village to eat the rest of your loved ones? Enough already. Let me throw the ring in the volcano, even if the mountain explodes into fire around me. At least that would be peace, of a sort.

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