Absence. A treatment.

Absence. My mind has been riding the waves of unnecessary indecisivenes for long. It has endured sleepless nights and found no comfort in the future days. The past has shown it no consolation either. Only dusted off, the painful memories drew chains around my ankles and wrists while making it almost impossible to not feel their weight.

After all, this is a form of absence. Absence from the present moment. A possibility of living through frozen glasses, contemplating the passing of time and only then realising the happiness hidden in each moment which was. As if walking through abandoned streets, seeing the ghosts of the past enjoying the Sun and the fragrant flowers while you sit behind a veil of time. When did such creations of mind start to do so? Don't they belong to a place of darkness and fear? They do not see you and you do not speak. Soon those movements, the shapes of their pale faces and the voices, cracking the ground beneath your feet, remind you of long-lost memories. These are the figures of your childhood, the figures of two months ago, the figures of yesterday. Yet somehow, they seem happy. Stuck in your tracks, the moments you wished finished seem enjoyable, dragging you back in a form of regret. Why didn't you feel the air on your skin when the wind was colder than ever? Why didn't you prolong the moments with the passed into nothingness? And why do you look back now? When just behind you there might be the change of a life time.

The songs you once felt through each of your Christmases are now the shadows of your tears. The hands you once held have turned cold under the stones bearing names. The candle lights have been absorbed into darkness. Yet you remain. You try to hum a little song which made you happy, you try to change your perspective- but what use? Someone needs to see in order to move, in order to see beyond. But only reminiscing the now numb feelings and focusing on its fleeting nature serve as premised for building walls. The sooner you try to move, you realise that your trials, aimed at warming up the sheets where you lie at night, only cage the souls which try to escape. Then, each day is not the promised joy or the hoped thankfulness, but the "could have been" written as the clouds cover the sky. Words leave your shape a washed line in the loneliness of the room. And you wait for another and another day.

When will you stop being absent? When will you free yourself from unnecessary pain and worries? The answer is hard to tell. I can only admit that sometimes just walking through darkness may serve you better. Your eyes get accustomed to low light. There's a weary path ahead- you'll soon start seeing patterns, you may discover a lamp and if you're brave enough you may light up the empty space. But only if you walk through when you felt nothing was there.

Slowly, we are all trying to be happy again. Happy as we were in our childhoods, free as we were when we lived for the moment. We all lose something throughout life, but that should not be the youth present in each moment. Remember and cherish your memories and learn to be happy through them. Learn to be happy from your past self. If times were good back then, they will transform into sunlight again and again.


Cristina. (trying to live in the present again)