A unique moment, just like everyone else's

To describe a moment may as well be to describe a lifetime. You can always remember everything about it – every thought, sensation, emotion. Often moments are as tangible as hot brick or iced water…they can create a shock which thrusts physical reaction forward, surpassing all logic and reason. To cry is a funny thing. To laugh is a strange thing. But to throw your head back and allow hope to explode out of your heart and soul seems the most obvious thing in the world. So why is it something that needs to be held back? Clutching at the fibres of your true laugh or biting back tears of any form just to preserve ones reputation seems bizarre, especially when you put it like that.

We like to guard ourselves. We flurry into any situation with the mutual knowledge that we don’t give a shit about anything that might be harmfully said, because we cant if we want to hold on to our dignity. Apparently. Is it a sign of weakness to show our true colours, to hold our palms out and say “yes, you hurt me” or “yes, I love you” or even “I can’t stand you.” It’s been too long. Many before us have taught us how to be ourselves, just like everyone else in this seemingly plummeting society.

So we fall. There’s another moment. When your stomach inflames to something that isn’t quite human, which doesn’t feel quite natural, it’s just wrong in the sense of something right that hasn’t gone to plan. Why is it so horrifying to admit that you literally want to die in the face of love? The pain of it all is not worth it, you just want to be still, as still as a pebble on a secret beach old as the hills you once cared about more than that.

It all used to matter so much. The sensation of bark upon skin, even when in angst was worthy of relish. The tangible sense of blades, gliding but wrenching under your weight in the wind…it all seems to disintegrate as you fall deeper into the pit. So suddenly it doesn’t seem as beautiful. It is as tainted as the sun during an eclipse. Ruined by something new, exciting and brilliant. We all eventually realize it’s nothing special, not really. Just something that swells and bursts in front of the light. Cover it up. Nobody here wants to hear all that.

It isn’t dramatic, it isn’t horrifying or happy, nothing epic, new or even vaguely exciting to them, but to you it might as well be the rolling stone of change to life, both exposing you and introducing you with kindly hands to all that is bright yet evil. They don’t teach you about that. All that is evil brings darkness, but I wasn’t warned it would be so subtle, so vicious, more so unintended. So there we go.