Memory

I’d written (and published) this ages ago:

The Girl in Hyacinth Blue. There were those who called her ‘Morning Shine’. She sits by a window with sunlight gently sweeping over her. Her serenity as the world passes by her seems overwhelming. Can anyone ever do that in real life? Blood seeping on to the floor; thicker than water, it does not spread out, only to merge again to form grotesque but interesting patterns as it spills over. Distorted reflections make their appearance in water like that. Hoping to be able to decipher a meaning which, in your heart, you know doesn’t even exist in the strange aberrations strewn on the dark black granite around you, you stare at them for what seems like an aeon and thank God for them. You do not want to see reality: it is too bleak. Hallucinations and lies are your respite from pain. Anything seems easier than the truth, and almost everything is.The patterns look like modern art if you stretch your imagination far enough except for the fact that you’re certain that they’ve been randomly created by a lunatic. You can almost hear his raucous laughs echoing in the background.The laughter doesn’t stop and you begin to realize that it isn’t your imagination playing tricks at all. You have to go back and face them: after all, they personify what your life has become. ‘The Girl in Hyacinth Blue’ never was anything more than a novel. There still is blood mixed with water on the bathroom floor as you begin to make your way towards the door.

Also, here’s one of my favourite pieces on relationships: http://www.authorzone.com/view_stories.php?storyid=

Healing

One question. When something unpleasant happens, how long is an acceptable amount of time to grieve? Does such a timeframe exist at all? Or is it something you simply create for yourself because, intellectually, you see no reason why you shouldn't be able to get over whatever's bothering you and simply move on?You try to remind yourself that, as Catherine Britton put it, "Courage is reclaiming your life after a devastating event robs you of your confidence and self-esteem. It is facing tomorrow with a firm resolve to reach deep within yourself to find another strength, another talent. It is taking yourself to another level of your own existence where you are once again whole, productive, special…"The hardest thing to deal with though is that you're never entirely certain whether you have reason to complain, whether you somehow caused whatever's bothering you. You invariably somehow manage to convince yourself that it is your own fault and, once you manage to do that, it seems as though nothing you do can ameliorate your condition.You see others' concern for you but you hear nothing they say. You feel their arms around you but you find no comfort in them. Nothing exists for you but your own guilt-induced misery. And you ask yourself how long it'll take you to recover?