I went camping this weekend. In the wilderness when night came, countless stars lit up an inky black sky. For a moment, I wished I could lose everyone around me. I felt like even forgetting the body I was in. Other than sight, I wanted all my senses to die for a moment there. So I could focus. And drink this in.. and have it with me forever.
Despite the compelling beauty of the night, it was a tough thing to do! The smell of food distracted me... as did the voices of others busily setting up camp.. A stampede of mundane thoughts stumbled over each other in my head.. thoughts that successfully destroyed my elegant reverie.
That night, I drank a lot of wine... some Bordeaux, some Chianti.. all rich and red, out of plastic glasses. I kept singing pointlessly, till very late. It felt like I was suspended in time. Everywhere around was pitch dark. I sat huddled close to the fire for the warmth. You couldn't see beyond of two feet, if you turned away from the light. The glowing embers of the dying fire was hypnotic. Nothing mattered, but the fire, my glass of wine and the tune I was humming.
When I crept into my sleeping bag, cold and shivering, I suddenly remembered that you were no more. That I had received this terrible terrible news shortly before I came away. You, who I had grown up with, who was always there for me every step of the way growing up, who I'd lost touch with over last several years, was no more. I had no energy for tears. I just felt blank. Grief is a relief in loss. Non-grief is terrible. I couldn't forgive myself for not mourning you... and yet, all our good memories, the letters, they were all with me in my heart. I felt weary under the burden of having to go on, knowing you were no more. Then sleep came.. and oblivion.