Swagazine Six

Airalin -- In Between

At the end, when everything has left, there is just you. Between the rain and the freeway lines, there is just you.

You know, all the times I ever found the moment, that sacred meaning, there was just me. I'm not sure how I feel about that these days. Things are the familiar strange blend of company and pain. But I smile at myself and I feel the arms of where I belong around me. I move with the tides of the ocean and the pattern of the rain. I move between the freeway lines and the signs. In between myself and the pattern of moments.

I see all these lives around me, real and created, echoing the essential struggle of humanity. They tug at the space inside me rocking me gently to the rhythm of the way the world breathes. All the stories I used to be have passed. I let them go. The beauty of my bittersweet moment leaves me in awe. The constant rebound of the soul. I know my problems aren't the worst that's ever been and I have been lucky to have chosen the path I walk and the shape of its thorns. I while my quiet moments away wishing I could save the world. Wanting so badly to be someone special, to some other world than my own dreams.

We've all looked to the sky and dreamed. Of all the people that have looked to the stars and believed, how many have never had their wish granted? So how many go on believing in the face of such hopelessness? All of us. We keep looking to the stars and we keep believing. We continue and there is no room for meaninglessness. If we've given birth to our own hopelessness then we've given birth to hope as well.

I turn over and over the same pages of this story. I'm still wandering, I'm still looking. I haven't quite found whatever it is I'm looking so hard for. I keep believing. Somehow there's this strength inside me, even though it's just me. It carries me across this sea. I stand on the rooftop in the pouring rain and raise my arms to earth and heaven and somehow I've found who I am. In between heaven and earth I have found who I am. Where I'm going isn't important and where I've been has long passed peacefully on. I'm not exactly sure where my place in all of this rain is. I suspect I'll find it though. I do what I have to do.

I feel more alone than I ever have in my life. It doesn't hurt so bad anymore though. I realize what alone really is. And I am okay, I'm all right. I smile; I'm all right. Somewhere between my front door and the car or Santa Barbara and Portland or the sea and the rain I did something right. Somewhere between walking away from everything that matters and the empty space that surrounds me I found the strength I was looking for. I don't have to know what I'll do if I lose him, but I don't really think I will. Just getting from here to there without him. Getting from here to there with just me.

I cry again. Just because. Because I'm alive. Somewhere in between me and who I love I've found the strength to do what I have to do. I want to be weak for a moment, to have someone hold me just long enough for this damned up sadness to burst. The sweet thought of comfort... There's a thousand miles of practical and a million miles more in between me and comfort. But I'm strong, I know I'm strong.

I see something. I see the light cresting over the edge of the sea, the glimmer of perfection that begins as a point and spreads its brilliance in a snowball effect of just beyond the gates of heaven. I see the color of the sea at first light and the all the colors in between. In between the rain the and freeway lines, I feel the warmth spread across my face. And I know, I just know. I will make it through this sunrise. And when it's time for sunset there will be a billion nightlights left on in the sky for me. And in all the time between there will be me.

At the end, when everything has left, there is just you. Between the moment and the dream, there is just you. I think I knew. I think it's how it's supposed to be. And in between the breaths I take I will find the connection and I will find my way home. Between the rain and the freeway lines.

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