Jump to content


On Nights Like This

Posted by Dr. D , 06 October 2012 · 234 views

Nights like this come upon me.  The black sky sags and stars shy away as dim reminders.  A fat Buddha moon bellies down on the clouds; its pallid light glistening on the dew.  It is a night of apathy and cruel rejection.  It has no place for me and I am an intruder within it.  No star guides me.  No hawk screams across the moon.  No wind carries messages and secrets from nests and burrows.  It is only me and the darkness and I am not welcome.

It is a night to settle deep into the sofa in front of the fireplace and listen to the chattering of the flames.  There is no escape in books or television; everything except the night is superficial and offers no refuge.  The only escape I have is you.

It is not fair.  People are not supposed to die at 42-years-old.  If there was any sense of justice, you would be here, your head pressed against my shoulder, sharing with me the stuttering of the fire.  We would have our conversations, the profound searching ones, the silly ones, probing through our mental scrapbooks and the ones of wondering about what the world would do to us.  Maybe we would sit in silence, each lost within their thoughts until moving closer to each other for protection.  But the world is not fair and it looted our lives of everything, even that last long look.

I sometimes think that feelings should have limits like everything else we encounter.  They should not consume us with their intensity or clutch our thoughts, thrusting them into the themes that best serve them.  There should be that point where they can be dismissed and started again like discipline or diets.  But, no.  They gather their forces and come upon us on nights like this.  They form the flanks of love, pain, joy and sorrow into the vast army of suffering.  They conquer with such ease that soon the tears of surrender mark their victory and we are absorbed into the darkness.

I will not go to bed this night.  I will lie prone upon the sofa and watch the fire shadows dance on the walls.  I will pretend the warmth of the flame is you and wait for another, better night.

Loss sucks, the wound is always there lurking.  Sorry for your loss, you loved deeply and hope you will love again.

  • Report