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Emulsion and Absolution - 22/02/2013

Furniture gradually filling the voids.

Dark Colours finally being replaced.

Some scars still require healing
Others still lurk beneath the numerous coats.

This morning I returned to tackle the skirting boards of the flat with gloss.
Upon completing the two bedrooms I slumped onto the sofa alone and in absolute despair. No matter how I tried to visualise a satisfying, fulfilling and continued existence, my soul revolted in agony. Each differing scenario culminated in projected misery at the hollowness, the downright hypocrisy.
I eased back into the embrace of the cushions and shut my eyes, my surrender to what seemed inevitable so complete I willed my heart to give out.
I scarcely took note of the message notifications that emanated from my pocket.

Yesterday I had cried from the depths, today the Lord answered my plea. The exact words are not important, suffice to say the timing was impeccable and the boost exactly what was required in that moment. I view it as proof that angels walk among us.

Though I am aware that perception and perspective is the key to seeing heaven where another sees hell, my downfall came through deluding myself into feeling powerless to steer clear of disaster, to enact sufficient and satisfying change compounded by suffering in silence. Perhaps it is unsurprising that once I ended my self imposed isolation and disclosed my pain to my partner, she ensured my perspective was reversed and a plan of positive action was hit upon.

The flat is no longer a terminus. It has ceased to be my gallows, a graveyard of dreams, a tomb of lost hope, end of the line. In a heartbeat it has become a springboard, a headquarters from where we will plan and execute our next adventure. A place to regroup. A beginning, not an end. Rebirth. Together.

Death and I are old acquaintances, we have complimented each other and lived together hand in hand this past year. I have stared deep into his eyes a hundred or more times, felt his fading heartbeat in my hands, the final shiver of nerves that whispers down the spine of his victim.
He will certainly come for me and when he does I will welcome him with same acceptance as I did today on the sofa.

But not yet.

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