Here I Am

I don’t think of you when I wake up or when I go to sleep at night. There is no trigger in my mind for thoughts of you. Thoughts of you are constant. Thoughts of you have taken out permanent office space in my brain and the office is open 24/7. Thoughts of you are weaved into every moment of my consciousness, and stitched into every dream of my unconsciousness. Thoughts of you are as much a part of me as my memories; I wouldn’t be myself if they were not there.

Every note I write you, every word I speak, every time I am there, every action I take towards you, every attempt I make to communicate to you the severity of my affliction, all of these are not unlike trying to empty the ocean using nothing more than a bucket. All of these are not unlike trying to download the internet onto a USB key. Two examples only made more fitting by virtue of the continuous growth of both bodies. Two examples of the impossible.

That 24/7 office though, it keeps growing too. Over reason, over the reasonable, and well over the impossible. So here I am, bucket in hand. Here I am, one USB key at a time. Here I am as my affliction and my salvation fuse into one; relentless, resilient and un-distracted. Here I am.