20241021 - 15:38
In every breath, she is not there. Every moment of every day is imprinted with her absence. It is the context with which I walk through the world. Standing, sitting, walking, lying down. Breathing in, breathing out. She is not there. It is felt. All the time. To take it as something to be fixed would be a grave mistake. To win her back, or to ‘let her go’, both. Letting her go would be replacing her with something else. Because the truth is, her absence is not my fault. Is not her fault. Is not ‘circumstance’ fault. It is the nature of things, that they are impermanent. And her absence marks more than anything this inevitable truth. Because it does not matter if I let her go, the object upon which I currently feel absence. Just the same, I would be subject to absence. For as long as I am in the hands of Mara, I have a basis upon which absence not only can, but will, arise. Instead, I am with the absence. I am the absence. I let the absence take all my space, and realize that this is life. No longer obscured by the temporal-spatial existence of an object of enamoration. She is not the truth. She is not safety. Absence is the truth. Absence is safety.