November. It is nowhere near me now. November is circling back around though. It moves along confidently, in an evil orbit, content to slowly circumnavigate it’s way back to me. Floating overhead like a bloodlusting scavenger bird. Feathers that are oily with the stench of black. A sickly, satisfied bird, pleased with itself and a meal yet to come.
Patiently, November waits to destroy me again. To cast a coasting predator’s shadow over me. Every love song in this honky-tonk bar reminds me that I broke up with a whore, but that I still miss her. Relapse. I’m not in this moment. My friends disappear like a mirage as my emotions take over. I miss her. Her horrible betrayals, her deceptions and unbelievable cruelties. I miss her treachery the way an addict misses the necessary needle; poison in the veins.
I broke up with the worst person I have ever met, last November. I’ve been running ever since. Like a doomed animal scared of the growing, approaching darkness soaring in callously from above. There is no escape.
The further away from November that I get, the closer it becomes again.
I’m drunk and I need to find my way home.
When we reach the bottom, the absolute bottom, when we feel like we can’t go any further down, and that the only answer is to leave this world and the pain behind, we die.
Some of us put guns in our mouths and die a mortal death. But many of us will remove the guns from our mouths, find a way to get up, pick up the pieces, start over. In that moment we only die a spiritual death… We are reborn again in the same bodies.
We are surrounded by people who have experienced this death and rebirth within the same bodies. We brush past these people as we focus on daily distractions from our pain. But take notice, because these people are closer to the truth than we can imagine.
The spiritual death and rebirth takes place when we are at our lowest and yet survive. In our darkest moments we are forced to face our fear; we are forced to work through our pain and despair. We are forced to eventually accept the loss of what we thought we couldn’t live without, and then begin to realize what truly matters in our lives. Some of us will spiritually live and die many times over in the span of a mortal lifetime. Each rebirth is a transformation we make as we get closer to our true selves.
Loss is painful, but it is a crucial part of our path. A necessary waypoint. In order to move forward, we have to walk through it. To walk around it, to avoid the pain of our loss, is to leave our path.
I wish she was holding my hand right now. I cannot escape her memories