He writes, sometimes on planes to Alaska…
Melancholy and madness. Between these ebbs of emotion is a sea of distrust, disarray.
Connie swam in this sea every day. Every moment of every day.
Battered and bruised upon unwelcoming shores, she endlessly faltered in her attempts to rise from these waters. She slipped back under as the tide rose to envelope the entirety of her being.
She had reason for her state. She clutched this reason close to her chest each moment, like it was a newborn. She cradled her suffering and nurtured its growth.
Loss was the root cause of this suffering. Connie had so loved someone that losing this someone undid her. It cause an evolution to take place within her DNA. She was transformed by this loss.
Each time she breeched the surface and thrust her head skyward to take a cleansing breath, her twin anchors of melancholy and madness kept her chained to perpetual crypt of drowning. She knew that this battle could not be sustained forever. That she would eventually give in to one or the other.
Her only hope, her only unfortunate escape from this dichotomous bondage was death. Yet, she kept on. She embraces the struggle.
Because even melancholy and desperate madness have one thing in common. Life.
iPhone Notes Story
SEA – ANC 03.18.14