When the Darkness of Destruction Tells You It Can Take Your Pain Away
“Hello again, friend.”
The faintest of whispers alert you to its presence. The Darkness has decided to pay you another visit.
“Hello,” I reply.
“Come closer to me.”
The Darkness beckons me with its seductive voice. Like a soft blanket, the comfort of the Darkness promises to envelope me in the folds, warm me from the cold of my irrational thoughts. It offers to protect me from those who would call those thoughts for what they are and, in doing so, make themselves an affront to my reality.
And once again, I am tempted. All the knowledge from a lifetime of warfare with the Darkness forgotten. The calm, gentle voice replacing those lessons learned with a new temptation, one that says this time is different. And so it begins, the dance that will determine my fate. The dance that has determined my fate one provocation at a time. The results mixed, ranging from absolute victory to utter darkness and countless points in between. But the Darkness has not won absolutely, yet. The dangers of confronting the Darkness are now seemingly in balance with the dangers of embracing it. Where am I safe? In the moment of allure, my mind struggles yet again. Yet again forgetting the victory that is so easily won by simply enduring the most impossibly arduous struggle.
“I will make your pain go away.”
And it most assuredly will, in the most destructive of ways. And while I laze in my newly realized state of bliss, it will leave behind a path of desolation — the depth of which I refuse to allow myself to imagine. At what cost is my liaison with this enchanted darkness? The destruction is the cost of my soul.
“I’m not sure I should,” I said.
I didn’t commit, but I didn’t offend, allowing for the opportunity to reconsider. The question allows infinitesimal measures of time during which an eternal debate ensues once again. Who will it hurt? Do I care? What about my feelings? Do they matter?
Clarity begins to return. The pain is still there, it will never go away. But in that moment of pause, the promise that comes with the first glow of dawn is grasped. At first so imperceptible that I can’t be sure of what I am seeing — it does not come meekly into the sky. It does not back down to the darkness that surrounds it. It boldly and unapologetically proclaims its rightful place, mercilessly conquering the emperor of the night and taking the throne to rule the day. It is fierce. It is fearless.
“I will not come to you.”
Emboldened by the vision of the first light of day, I find my strength. I will conquer the Darkness today. If for no other reason than to stubbornly prove I am still in control, hoping conviction will come with persistence. It seems the lessons of a lifetime have not been completely lost.
Behind the walls I have built, I have watched as time carries out its purpose. Dark, then Light. Then Dark. Then Light. There is always another Light.
And with those complicatedly uncomplicated words, the Darkness goes quietly. It does not push back against my resolve because it knows there is no point. It cannot prevail when facing a mind set against it. And my dawn blossoms into day. But I am not naïve.
Behind my walls, I have watched as time carries out its purpose. Light, then Dark. Then Light. Then Dark. There is always another Dark.
But there is always another light.
Unsplash image by Jordan Whitfield