Contemplating the notion of simplicity, she lingers a moment at the leading edge of life. "Slow down" she whispers to herself, knowing that if she doesn't heed the warning, the whole train wreck will careen beyond that edge, and who knows what damage it will do. At times like these she'd like nothing better than to walk away. The load is so heavy she can barely breathe. She tried to set it down, but it didn't stay.
Exhausted, defeated, she gives up the battle. She cringes as she thinks of the damage already done, the stress he endured, the frustration. If her love causes him pain, she'll stop feeling it. But, God... can she stop? It's beyond her, or rather, it has consumed her. She can't control what she feels, she'd have done that by now. Expression... that she can control. She's learned to bury, to hide, to retreat. She can focus on that. Blank, immobile, unexpressed...
So, she loses again. She lets him go, and with him goes her heart. She won't need it anyway, she knows the only way she'll get down this path is to stop feeling. So, there you go, she thinks. Just stop. Stop thinking, stop wanting, stop loving. What was that word he used? Yearning... stop yearning. Let it go.
Losing hope is different than stopping love. Hope is fragile, easily damaged, often destroyed. Love, when it is real, is strong, enduring, resilient. Love goes on, even if it must go alone.
She understands now that it will go on.
And so will she.
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