Imagine this: You’re standing on a bank and the waves rise up right on time, then, when they’ve crested, suddenly they stop, they freeze solid. You turn around and behind you the happy crowds at play are as statues, the children digging at the beach are caught, spade in hand, grains of sand hanging in the air. And within you rises up the knowledge that you are alone, that there’s no one to turn to. Your senses fizz and reach out to the horizon, searching for the slightest movement, aching for the most distant sound, screaming for the smell of salt on the air, for the touch of a breeze. Then you fall to your knees without feeling the ground, eyes wide, mouth open, tongue dry. The world isn’t spinning, you are and you are it’s centre. But some centre. All that you are is gone. Your childhood spent playing on sticky hot tarmac, it’s rich smell clinging to your shoes, your friends at school who grew with you, your first kiss tentative and unassured, your first love a fumble in the dark, your beautiful child born through pain and blood and tears on the hospital bed. Gone. There’s no place for thoughts of these things. You are sparking off a thousand questions a second and you can’t keep up. You are being crushed by the weight of knowing, by the burden of not understanding.
*****
Imagine: You’re standing on a bank and the waves rise up right on time, then, when they’ve crested, suddenly they drop. You turn around and behind you are happy crowds at play, children are digging at the beach. The roar of the ocean shuts out their laughter and within you rises up the knowledge that you are alone, that you are lost. Your senses fizz and reach out to the horizon, searching for the familiar figure, aching for their voice, screaming for the smell of their skin, for the touch of their hair. Then you fall to your knees, eyes shut, jaw clenched. The world is spinning and you are not. You might just fall off and you don’t care as all that you are is gone. Your childhood spent playing on sticky hot tarmac, your first kiss tentative and unassured, your beautiful child born through pain and blood and tears on the hospital bed. Gone. There is no place left in you for these things. You have one thought in mind and this one thought has banished all others. You are being crushed by the weight of knowing, by the burden of not understanding.
*****
You’re standing on a bank and the waves rise up right on time, then, when they’ve crested you hear that voice say “I don’t love you anymore. I’m leaving.”