Friday, August 28, 2015

My Friend In The Room

There is a hole in this room that I go to. Where I cup my hands around and whisper my secrets into. If this hole was a person, he/she would know all the things that made me tick and all the things that make me fall and rise. Is there anyone listening at the other end of this hole? I don't know. I sure hope so. It would be nice to meet this person whoever he/she is – but again I am afraid of meeting him/her because this person would know me too well that it would be dysfunctional the second we even met.

I am afraid tonight because this room has started to cave in. I started wrecking it when I thought I would not need it anymore, but you can never say such things. I would always need a room like this to falter back into. Who was I kidding? Of course I would always need a room like this to falter back into...

'Falter back into'... I cringe at the language. Have things become so bad by now that I have to falter?

The room caves in and I can do nothing but look.

I came in here to share my wild dream from last night that felt like a nightmare. I woke up in cold sweats. And I felt like the hole was the only entity that would understand me. Very soon I would be naming it and calling this hole by first names. Like the ear on the other end even exists. Like he or she even exists.

The room caves in. Is this the only way I can be released from this friendship? When the room is stolen from me – where would I run to then? Who would I tell my dreams and secrets to? Who would listen?

I've never had real ears to hear all that I have to say. That's why I needed that hole to whisper into. I've never had real ears to understand what I have to say.

Am I deluded or is it true? Even this, I don't know.