There are many “behind the scenes” issues burbling right now. Things that came to the surface while standing in the courthouse and seeing stbx.
There are places in this universe that are like mental fault lines, tears in the fabric of life. When I stand on these faults, I can feel all the misery of every single soul that came before me. It seeps out of the ground like toxic sludge. It flows down the walls like tears. If I listen hard enough, I can hear weeping.
The unbearable sadness of this situation is clawing at me. I’m the single stationary point in a time lapse movie. The world is spinning around me and I can’t comprehend any of it. The only thing I can do is warm my hands on my coffee cup, close my door, and cry. This is The Grieving. This is beyond anger. This is when the situation implodes.
To see someone that I thought I used to care about and know, in my heart of hearts, that I could put a gun to his head and pull the trigger, all the while staring him straight in the eye, is unsettling. Most human beings, I would hope, have never stared into that black pit in their soul.
It’s like death. It’s the full revelation of how twisted we can all be as human beings. It’s a constant struggle to hold onto that line by Abraham Lincoln and be guided by the better angels of my nature.
It’s the realization that I don’t believe in angels.
The universe is whole and entire and I am completely outside of it. I’m standing in the street after the bombs have gone off, surrounded by what used to be my life, my family, my everything. I am surrounded by ruin and covered in blood.
The pieces are so many and they are scattered so very far.