June 25, 2003 - 2:58 p.m.
When it's not sudden. When it's just been looming around the bend...
When an end is near, it seems further away than ever. Every second getting closer, more imminent, and yet from a certain view it seems to be retreating, shrinking in size... Our brain trying to manage the unmanageable. The vibration grows larger and less detectable, more dispersed... Our emotions swell, but are held carefully, cautiously; they're waiting for the glass to tilt and then spill out over the rim. It's every direction at once. It's every moment. Every sound. Every feeling. Every smile. Every tear. Every discovery or knowing look. Every right and wrong. Every sunny day, or rainy night, shared with you, or him, or her, or them. And maybe it hasn't been enough. And no one really knows anything. And all at once, no one will ever know. It happens then. It may be a forceful exit, or it may take its leave silently, in a blink and a sigh. It can be graceful and frightful in the same moment. The impact becomes all too clear, and blurred at the same time. There is no such thing as full understanding when the brain isn't built to make sense of a thing.
And I want to be there for you. I want to lend my support to you and your family.
