Threshold

And the fortune teller says, "There is no fortune to tell. Your future is all used up." Every second that passes is a bit of your future turning to dust. Happy or sad, memorable or easily forgotten, distinct and punctuated with emotion, or bland, banal and bleeding into the next moment, it doesn't matter. No matter how you spend your time, that's exactly what you are doing.

Spending time.

But it's not like any other currency. You may have people in your life with whom you'd like to spend your time. So there you are, with time to spend and a person to spend it on. The problem, however, is that they may not want to spend their precious time on you. They call it unrequited love when it involves romance. But the dilemma has many names. The end result is the same, however...loneliness.

Take my hand and I'll lead you to a room, away from the crowd. We'll set up a life together and share a bed. There will be laughter and loving looks. I'll awaken early and cook a fine breakfast after a night of conversation and love-making. The aroma of coffee will stir you. And over our meal there will be more laughter, and my chest will ache with affection.

The day will pass with little notice of the world outside our flat. Everyone else will be little more than a rumor. The only reality that matters will be on this side of the threshold. And there, another laugh, another smile, another meal shared. If I should fall asleep and wake up next to you, it will be with a smile.

"Treasure these moments," I'll say to myself, "for they will pass." As if it were possible to prepare for loneliness. It's not. And then you are gone. The value of time itself changes.

To be naked is to be vulnerable again, where once is made me feel close to you. I don't know where you are anymore. Somewhere on the other side of the threshold. Somewhere in the crowd. Somewhere far away from me, because that is what you chose. There is nothing novel about this pain and emptiness. It's common. It is everywhere.

When the wound is new, you gauge it. Test how much you can move the limb this way or that. You wonder if it will kill you. But over time you have to accept it, no matter how much it hinders you. It simply is. So you move on, slower now, but still moving.