in twilight given the chance, I would have succumbed to the grief, collapsed on the sidewalk and cried until all the pain exited my body, this futile shell, and lain there until it hurt no more. be that death or be that hope, I am so lost that I do not know.

I walk on, in the cold at 5am, past Shove Chapel and once again turn my back on this agony to check on the dog: is he ok?

is he ok? are my friends ok? is this event that I can't run from ok? is my emotional state ok?

what solace I receive strengthens me while weakening me. my resolve grows to move forward; my pain backlashes by increasing. I laid in bed all night waiting for this dawn, which still hasn't crested, so that I could shower and change and don my mask of "Ok-ness" by day only to skulk back into my madness at night, get up, repeat.

why do I turn last to see if I am ok... is this the same longing she had to be generous in order to receive love? what point is there in me continuing to try and work that out? would that anyone could salve this with their words; I doubt even she could soothe me now, other to say: move forward.

in twilight longing to see that day when I am just happy that the sun came out, knowing that in years to come I will look back and have gratitude, I will look back and have the compassion I so lack for myself, I will be more healed than I can possibly imagine today.

in the stillness of my apartment I hear my neighbors, taking solace. and then I remember your skin so warm and naked, and take comfort. comfort which fluctuates between the hysteria of not being able to let anyone inside my heart and the relaxation of a long awaited peaceful night's rest.... one that is yet to come but so close to happening.

shove chapel, green grass, icy sidewalk, dark trees, the mystery of a past night mocking everything and the community we built there in the aftermath. to you I gave a website, to you I will give a documentary, to you I gave my remorse, to you I gave my heart and you gave me back everything I ever really wanted: your acceptance, your love, your seemingly endless embrace. in your cursive writing of late April I felt your arms and I would give everything to hear your voice, whispering as it does now through the voices of your friends, my friends, these trees, my dog's careful nudge, the crackle of old ice underfoot.

this friend told me to listen more closely now and these are the most profound words anyone has spoken to me yet of this. this shared grief. this shared obsession? this shared madness... which isn't really shared as I watch myself walk farther out on the limb of sanity, walk farther away from the crowd of people who move on daily, walk deeper into my own confused and contorted mind.

in twilight given a reprieve from disaster... there is food, there is warmth, there is safety and there is a greater measure of security than I have known before. in my twilight I feel yet more tears than I can bear and give them now to the chapel as I cross its path back to my home, to your home; in my twilight I still grieve and hope that this twilight of mine breaks into dawn and doesn't morph into another heartbreaking grief for someone else.

I try, I cry, I scream out into the night under the guise of calling for my dog but really, I call out for this to cease - let me just have one night wherein I am not lost... and then let me have this beautiful dawn, the one just now breaking outside my window, bathing me in pink and purple and blue light. I know that I will look outside later, see that mountain in the distance snow covered and cold yet strong, and I will try to find anything, any small of part of me, that can stand as bold as that peak, covered in the cold sorrow of my losses but reflecting the warm light of continuance.

in my twilight, I still need, I still give. and fling these helpless words out to my friends, or are they your friends, or is the cracking of my heart and mind just clouding any modicum of deliberation and judgment I may yet still possess?

in my twilight, I still love you and miss you... I still do.

-cris