Darkness

Darkness.  Cold, freezing cold.  Fast, speeding fast.  Light, small bits of light, swerving, screaming between the darkness.  Color and wet, and so dark.  So cold.  Colder than I've ever been.  A different cold than snow, but somehow still winter.  A winter darkness.
Trapped and breathless.  Can't breathe, can't move.  There's no escape and my tears begin to fill the dark wetness surrounding me.  How much farther before it ends?  How much longer must I swim before the shore is near and my feet can feel the bottom of the water?
The ocean.  I'm in an ocean.  How did I reach the ocean from the car?  The bridge.  Speeding too fast.  So fast.  Can't breathe.  I can't breathe yet I am.  Words do not come.  My voice is broken from the cold shock but in a second, a split second, I've found a shore that seems worth pursuing.
Strangers appear, but they disappear just as quickly.  The parts they play are deep in the background though they seem so close.
The sand is wet.  It's cold.  Colder than I ever imagined but I pick myself up.  This is a great feat for myself and I trudge passed the shore, to the grassy spots under the pavilion where there's nobody.  No one to watch the silky smooth water with dancing waves.
And, I want to dance in the water.  Is there someone that would find me a worthy partner?  I am broken, I know.  Battered in ways that are not the normal culprit.  And before I know it, my dark coldness shrivels me away, to another day, another spot.
I've found the top of the cliff I've driven off of.  A lake, dark as tar and hot as fire on the skin, lies below but I move swiftly towards it.  Searching- for what?  Somebody, someone.
So, I'll stand here on the edge, waiting for the one I search for.  He knows how to find me, the words to say.
While I'm alone on this beautiful mountain, I've learned that when I cry, so does the sky.  She shares her tears with me when I am all out.  She shares her space, freely.  Allowing me to gaze up at the stars, the moon, the lakes.  I choose, often, the tallest cliffs high above the mountain top I sit upon.  It holds my secrets, my shames and all of these things.
And I wait.  I wait.
Tired sets in so quickly, so I sit and in time I lie down.  Comfortable on the ground, close to the fire, calmly, patiently, knowing I would see him.  This master of my dear secrets.  I ache to take the key back.  The keys made from my words, secrets and blush,but the key cannot be given back.
Shh!
Shh!
Quiet- let the darkness speak.  Listen to her. Listen and feel.
I do and I feel him behind me.  Who is this man?  A breath from him upon my skin.
Desirae
Desirae- not the name I expected to hear, spoken with a difference of letters in the voice.  How is that possible?  His voice.  I recognize his vice.  He has that key.  My secrets and my heart in ways undefined.  I have, yes, offered up a bit of my soul.
Desirae-  his voice speaks sadness.  Pain he cannot bear alone.  Pain I cannot bear alone.
Silent tears, but a storm of tears.  A storm so great the mother sky never has to shed hers again, but she did, with us.  For us.  We create a storm so great there's no way out.

I take his hand.  The hand of the man I do not know.  Gorgeous is he, a smile so great, so sweet and a laugh so fun, so delicate.
And we dance.
Sharing secrets-these secrets-the ones that matter.  The ones that teach us, show us, guide us.  Break us.  Ones we do not share with even our closest friends and sometimes ourselves.  So, what, my Dear, does that make us?  Secret Keepers.
That point is but a tiny point as I lose my will and care and all that is.  I cannot help myself as I run....run...run...to the edge and just before I jump, my hand is taken and for a moment I seek the will to fight.  The right for freedom.  But the fight today is set for another day, another time.
Tonight, this beautiful man, he holds my hand.  With just a simple touch, I now feel his pain.  The heartache that has befallen his heart.  I turn as we're falling, to fix it.  I touch his chest, over his heart, to calm but he is not.  Sadness radiates all around him.  A sadness I want to turn to something else.
I'm too late to help, already losing that flicker of light.  The bits and pieces barely a flicker anymore.  My darkness surrounds me and as I jumped again, though I had not known I was still standing.  He'd grounded me,  I feel his hand clinging tightly to mine, but without fear.  Lovingly, with care, a softness I had never felt.
We fall, gliding down, the rain beating down, softly covering our skin.  Our hair, neck, face, arms.  All of us.  Soon we are crashing into the water.  The ocean of tears we have spilled.  Down, until we are standing, the water surrounding every part us.
Hand in hand we walk, breathing under the water.  Perhaps because it's made from our tears, it a part of us.  Each of us searching as we go forward, together but separately, for whatever it is we seek.

I feel her.   I see the brightness surrounding her.  Vibrant colors I didn't know existed. A scarf of silkiness.  I touch it as it floated near.  She makes me laugh because she makes you happy.  She makes you laugh.  A sunshiny laugh amidst the storm.  Before you go, before you follow the silky scarf she sent for you, you turn back to me.  A light feathery kiss on the cheek and I watch you go, following her.
From here, I walk alone searching for what.  I don't know.

Darkness.  Cold.  Freezing cold.  Moving too fast.  Flickers of light, but darkness shuts it off.  Wet.  Dark wet.  Shock.  I hear a scream but I am trapped.  I cannot help.  She screams.  It pierces through my ears, my body, my veins.  Fierce scream running through my veins, a knife in hand piercing, slicing throughout its travel.
Sh gasps for breath.
I can't breathe but I scream anyway.  She was me.  Shrilling scream escaping just as quickly, just as fearful and deep as the tears from my eyes.
And when it stops I am alone.  Cold, wet and alone.  Shaky and frightened.
A voice, soft, comforting, gentle in the distance, moving closer.  I recognize his voice but I do not know him.  He smiles so sweet but I cannot see if, with intent or not, he seeks to harm me.

In a second the brightness blinds me and I am awake.  I feel him still though and look out the bedroom window.  A distance away he's kneeling, his gun aimed.  Ready.  I feel the revenge from the distance between us, though I am unsure of my crime.  I know he can see me.  And in a moment, I stand before him, staring down the barrel before he holds it to me. I must bite my own bullet.

Cold. Freezing cold. Wet and darkness.  And, it begins again.