I have a love hate relationship with my existence. Hurtled from one place to another, dumped in a corner, forgotten for the better part of my existence and yet indispensable. I am like the neglected wife of a fairly long marriage, dreaming to be picked up in arms and getting passionately kissed, who instead ends up getting a forgotten peck in rush.
Picked up in a rush, dumped even before I have had my fill of his touch, separated albeit temporarily from the company of the arms I love most, left and forgotten to bump and being bumped in with the rest of my brood, unfamiliar strangers united by the similar situation we are stuck in. Forced upon each other's company, we make conversation, listen to each other's stories, share experiences, listen to the tales of lives from far and wide, before being separated sometimes forever, sometimes to be re-united by the accident of life.
And before long, I am back in the arms I love, only to be dumped again, to be given a quick cursory search that is reserved for a familiar being, and then forgotten in a corner, to be remembered daily in the occasional moments of need, while I from my corner, watch your life go past my hungry eyes, catching every moment of it like a parched lover, asking for no more than the span of attention you give.
Ours is the world of deaf and dumb. He's deaf and I am dumb. Hardly a word is spoken between the two of us, and we do not seek to break the silence that we have grown to love. Left alone, we stick to our spaces, neither wanting to disturb each other. We speak the language of gratitude, gratitude for each other's company, each making the existence of other meaningful. The unspoken understanding being the beauty of our relationship. And it's been a long and happy association.
And if u are by now scratching your heads in amazement, wondering about our relationship, let me tell you, We are inseparable, and the few lost and found moments that we have had, have left our hearts standstill with fear, with separation however small, filling us with anxious tears and lines of worries, making the bonds that hold us stronger.
We are the companions on a long journey, whose presence not only gives the other the happy feeling of a familiar presence, but is also a source of strength. On the strange and unfamiliar roads that we travel we are each other's source of comfort.
This is the story of my Life.
The Life of a Suitcase.
Picked up in a rush, dumped even before I have had my fill of his touch, separated albeit temporarily from the company of the arms I love most, left and forgotten to bump and being bumped in with the rest of my brood, unfamiliar strangers united by the similar situation we are stuck in. Forced upon each other's company, we make conversation, listen to each other's stories, share experiences, listen to the tales of lives from far and wide, before being separated sometimes forever, sometimes to be re-united by the accident of life.
And before long, I am back in the arms I love, only to be dumped again, to be given a quick cursory search that is reserved for a familiar being, and then forgotten in a corner, to be remembered daily in the occasional moments of need, while I from my corner, watch your life go past my hungry eyes, catching every moment of it like a parched lover, asking for no more than the span of attention you give.
Ours is the world of deaf and dumb. He's deaf and I am dumb. Hardly a word is spoken between the two of us, and we do not seek to break the silence that we have grown to love. Left alone, we stick to our spaces, neither wanting to disturb each other. We speak the language of gratitude, gratitude for each other's company, each making the existence of other meaningful. The unspoken understanding being the beauty of our relationship. And it's been a long and happy association.
And if u are by now scratching your heads in amazement, wondering about our relationship, let me tell you, We are inseparable, and the few lost and found moments that we have had, have left our hearts standstill with fear, with separation however small, filling us with anxious tears and lines of worries, making the bonds that hold us stronger.
We are the companions on a long journey, whose presence not only gives the other the happy feeling of a familiar presence, but is also a source of strength. On the strange and unfamiliar roads that we travel we are each other's source of comfort.
This is the story of my Life.
The Life of a Suitcase.
4 comments:
That was interesting, thank you for posting it, Kyra.
Blessings,
Victoria
@Victoria Thank you,
just a spur of a moment piece of work, I enjoyed reading what I'd written, so I thought I would share :)
This made me sad.
Sad Relyn? Why did it make u sad?
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