metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A yearning ended Ahreannas forehead rested on the cool glass of the foggy windowpane, her gaze not focused, her eyes not seeing. It was a gray, dreary day just into spring, the cold rain still rife with the promise of warmer days and sunshine. Still, the weather matched her mood. Her heart was on another plane, in another lifetime; diving deep into the black water, searching, searching for the one it knows dwells there; there in the deeps where it had never found another, holding its breath until it felt as though it would burst and coming up for air only to plunge back in. Heart was persistent and obstinate. Heart had been spoiled and heart wanted more. Heart wanted it all. She smiled indulgently at her hearts resolute search; knowing it would not find the one it sought. She knew he was gone. She knew he could not bear the yearning, constant and gnawing, with no end in sight. She knew the pain, because she owned the match to the set. It was as though they loved pain and sought it out, craving it to no ultimate goal but the pain itself. She knew it was too much for him � too much to bear. She knew because it was too much for her as well. His battered heart, broken and bloodied countless times, still longing for what it could not have, continued to throw itself against the glass wall, unyielding and impenetrable. His heart and hers saw in each other their perfect match, their counterpart and at that moment of recognition the yearning began. But they could never touch, never be together in that space, that space they both hungered for; still they yearned. Like rats in a maze, their hearts searched and searched, covered the same ground over and over and over and over, always ending at the same dead end, the cheese so near yet so far � never within reach. When they tried to reason with their hearts, the hearts would throw a tantrum, pleading and insisting that if given one more try, the hearts could find a different way through the maze and the ending would be different. Each trip through was more debilitating than the last. This last one was just one trip too many through that maze, that gauntlet of fruitless hope. Desperate and exhausted, their hearts are now bandaged and sleeping in an induced coma. Perhaps they will heal. They will never be the same. The scars will remain, the hole will never fill. They will survive. Only time will tell if the desperate and forlorn longing will diminish. 8:23 p.m. - 2006-03-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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