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Rated: E · Prose · Adult · #2062249
After losing someone close I must come to grips with what it will take to survive.

-Everything But You-
by
Keaton Foster

“Mutually Elusive.”

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A once brighter sun in my sky has hidden itself away, falling down, far from all grace. Deep-sixing itself below a horizon that I could never hope to reach. Regardless of before, I am less than certain that it will again return. Such is my life, such are my ways. In a constant state of apprehension is how I presently exist.

Higher and higher, a solemn moon obfuscates all residence. Screaming into view, it’s the only thing left in my life, in this world, that has not waned in opacity when in my mind clearly it should have. Billions of stars dimly shine in an ever-thickening night’s realm. All around, walls of absolute fall down. From one possibility to every other, blackness saturates through.

The world all around me creeps to a standstill. Nothing invades, crawling into my skull, settling in behind my eyes. The caustic nature of all that it represents is easily felt. It begins to burn my skin, quickly lessening my defenses, breaking me down, tearing me apart at the seams. It won’t be long—it never is—until I surrender to all that it means for night and the nothing it brings to come for me.

What is so different, what is greater than tragic? That she, you are nowhere to be found. As it has before, but this time much more, everything but you invades. No love fills my lungs. No sense of joy embraces this man’s heart. Nothing I have managed to believe is present. All that was before has become nothing more. Everything but you, and more, is here, in this point and time. In this prison so self-defined, so self-prescribed.

The forest stands and nature goes about its plan as life and death happen all around. Creatures big and small exist for a purpose much simpler than our own. I am jealous of such an ability to take life down to survival or not. One must die so that another lives. One must be a greater evil to those who show any sign of weakness. It really is a matter of kill or be killed. Consume or be consumed.

At my feet, a crystal blue sea shines, endlessly for miles. The warm sand grates at the soles of my feet. Seagulls swirl in smaller and smaller circles, screaming for something to eat—a scrap or two to help them make it one day more. The more I observe them, the more I can relate. The more I come to understand. As this world around spins, people do what they must to survive, and from this moment on I am certain that so must I.

From this day on, every day that I make it, I will look to the sky and begrudgingly thank all that is above. In spite of, and regardless of, the world will spin right on by. Time will take back each second, good or bad, of this life. I will do all that I can, just as I have for my entire life. I will embrace all that I am and find a way to deal with all that hurts me so.

I will look around and see this world for what it is and what it has become. You have long since left this wondrous place behind, and I have no choice but to accept the fact that I will never again hold you close, and that I will never again see you in everything that I must do.

From this point on, I will have everything but you.




Everything But You
by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015

© Copyright 2015 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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