The Gateway to Nothing

My heart is tired. It aches within me.

It seems that my dreams are like resounding echoes in an empty room. The sounds come from distant desires, and are the ghosts of spoken words that mean nothing: stolen kisses in dark rooms, whispered words through weary lips. All the things you say and swear you mean, all the things I say and truly mean... The words are jumbled together in my head until I can't remember what you said and what I said and what I merely felt in the gentle sweep of your hands upon my face. What did it all mean? For I know what it means to me, but to you? I am barred from that understanding, and I can never know.

I feel that I should give up and let go; after all, what does it matter to a broken heart as hard and cold as a crater of gray slab? No life could survive there unless you bring it, and you remain distantly within your own mournful sadness. Maybe the two will never meet, though my living depends upon it. Or maybe deep down, within the depths of our individual sadness a tunnel will span the distance between our two graves and we should meet...

I should break away from the dismal existence of hopeless hope, of longing that will never be sated, and of pain that will never be relieved. I am destined for nothing, and in weariness I travel alone, solitude before me and behind me, with no evidence that anything else will come...ever.

In spite of it all, you are still a tower of light, to me, a beacon of hope spanning a distant horizon I can never reach on my own. I see you, but cannot stretch out my hand to grasp you. You are always escaping me, yet I keep you always in my sight. Your light pours out on me and gives me warmth, even if we should never touch again. I am a weak and frozen stone beat upon by the waves of heartbreak...nothing without your love.

Please, please, please just take me away forever. I can think of nothing better than to leave this cold emptiness forever and go with you to a place of warmth and happiness and love, just you and me.


"The strongest guard is placed at the gateway to nothing. Maybe because the condition of nothingness is too shameful to be divulged." -- F. Scott Fitzgerald