1love1God1way
Posts: 2478
Joined: 5/16/2005
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Condensation on the large bay window distorts my view of the passing world beyond the pains of antique glass. In and out of the quaint little shop venture folks from all different walks of life. You can see it in their stony eyes. You can hear it in the cracks in their voices and the limps in their strides. Everyone limps these days, it seems. Everyone has seen war. The shuffle in their feet bares the weight of their wounded souls.
This is a sanctuary of sorts. A place to lay burdens at the altar. But idle conversation and bursts of caffeine can only take away so much of this life. The familiar odor of espresso can never save me. Nor you. Soon I know I must walk past the blurry window, through the heavy door, and into crisp, stinging reality. Just like everyone else who seeks shelter here.
I can’t shake the feeling that I am falling. I can’t shake the feeling that falling is my fate. For twenty-one years I’ve gazed out this window, wishing to only linger a while longer in safety, away from the ravenous world. It’s not fear that keeps me here – it’s hate. I hate falling. I hate the uncontrollable, unavoidable plummet that is life. I have searched for something to stop it. I have reached from something to hold on to. I have cried for someone to catch me.
But not today.
Today I just sit and wait for my savior to walk through that old oak door. I’ll recognize her by the tear in her eye, the wisp in her voice, and the stumble in her step.
She is just like me.
_____________________________
love.ben
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