No Way Home

I was walking yesterday; it was almost dark. Maybe the entire day was because even though I saw light all day long, it didn’t feel like it. The paths here are long and wide, one can easily get lost into a whirlwind of strangers, strangers that would laugh and mock all along the way in their mobs, but wouldn’t know how to act alone in the dark, when their demons find ways to surface and take them under.

I were there, right there in the dark suffering and screaming at my self-created yet self-destructed inward precipice, my terror climbing up her back because this woman never knew patience and control. This woman could only howl in her dreams, where she thinks no one can hear her, where she thinks no one can see her, where she thinks she can finally let it all out alone because it’s better here alone than in the terrifying world outside. This woman, and she had it self-taught, over multiple years, that, “No matter what the talk, Chin-Up and Walk!”

So she did. And that’s what she does now, her chin up, and her long walk.

For a second in her walk, whilst her eyes remained fixated on a spot ahead of her, in the dark of night, there was a flash of light, that came with a gentle graze, a brush of a strong, yet gentle arm.

I felt my soul light up, for only a second, like a bulb does when a circuit completes. I felt a rush of current, perhaps a lost energy of one of those terrorising dreams.

I walked along with a different glory, a step forward, a hand back, another being softly squeezed into the pleasing safety of a once estranged, twice friended, thrice loved, fourth forgiven, and fifth? Loved to tears again.


It was breezy as I walked now, which was weird because this was not our climate. Perhaps the beginning of my everlasting delusion, this air, and perhaps the fact that I could lose this air any second and succumb to my asphyxiation.

And sure enough, our air faltered, right when I took a breath.

Two huge blocks in the otherwise wide paths didn’t take long to push us - well, me - back. It was like no matter what, this is what it’s always going to be. My solitude, my inability to fight back and the fact that this was a never-ending tale of innumerable push backs into pain. Just the kind of pain in your chest, when the lack of air hits.

It felt suffocating at once, to feel that my breeze was gone. The pain resurfaced with the heat of the real climate out here. In this very moment, the feeling of being pulled away into a different place, away from the air, the missing semblance of a home, and back into my walk in the dark.