Darkness

Amazing the darkness that can seep into one's soul in a moment of weakness.

A string of coincidences leads me to a moment of utter despair, where the darkest recesses of my mind can easily bully my concious mind, forcing me to believe in things that I know are not true, forcing me to face things that are not true.

For those crucial minutes, they are true, in my head.

I shiver, trembling in my workplace. A part of my body's trembling is the cold, but with 2 shirts, one of them long-sleeved, and a jacket on top of it all, everyone still stares at me when they see me trembling. That's because the shivering comes from the cold in my heart.

My heart simply freezes over when confronted with the tricks my fear plays on me. Shutting out all warmth. Closing to all. Suddenly everything looks so calculated and clinical. Greetings from coworkers turn to poisonous hipocrisy in my eyes. Even the person who granted me the cigarrette and lighter I use to try and escape looks like another person laughing behind my back.

I am afraid.

Moments and a few calls later, everything turns out to be a misunderstanding, but the fear remains. Not the original tricks, but now that those have been utterly dispelled, new tricks created to slip in the cracks. What if it was a lie? What if she was somewhere else? What if THIS is the truth?

I know these tricks for what they are, yet that is probably what I fear the most. That even when I know them, they still find their way in.

I am weak.

From a logical standpoint, something all too easy to see now that my heart is frozen, all of them are plausible arguments against everything I hold dear. What if they ARE lies? Yet only the warmth that is gone from me can bring me back to my original viewpoint, to my original place in the scheme of things, or, more like to where I thought I was, or where I think I stand, in the scheme of things.

Ever so slowly, and only for a few minutes, almost an hour, I die inside.

I know I will probably not remember this for long. This episode will fade to the recesses of my memory, like all other things do. One of the blessings of a really lousy memory, I guess. But I know, that my future ignorance to this event will only last so long as to my next moment of weakness. When my fears will use this episode as further proof that they are right, and I am wrong. That I am wrong to trust in others and their words, such as they are easily falsified. Feelings? Just the things I want to see in others, nothing more.

Or so they say.

I sit here at work, in my desk, seemingly shuddering from the cold. If someone could visually see how I feel though, they'd see a 5-year old, crumpled into a ball, with all his darkest fears mocking him and teasing him from just outside the dim light that is his hope for his future.