Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Vision (08/03/06)
TITLE: Valley of Vision
By Zuanne Joubert
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Why did he ask me to rather get rid of our baby, the baby he always wanted? A baby he once said, would fill his need and make him whole. A child he would love and hold in his arms, but the minute it was conceived he didn’t want it anymore. Was it because he realized the baby would have infinite needs of it’s own… or what?
A valley of vision - sudden - from no where. All the times he refused to take my calls, evaded my questions, the young woman’s voice on his answering machine, clothes that he left home with, but did not return with, the after-shave he got for his birthday… The idea had came from out of nowhere, flashed through my mind. Vision is the art of seeing something invisible.
The night has a thousand eyes and the day but one, the mind a thousand eyes -the heart but one. Even darkness can not disguise everything. Leery and bedazed, I felt numb and incompetent; losing my sanity in a sea of conclusion, a volcano of emotion rolled off my tongue in never ending streams of senseless meaning as I blasted him with accusations, in the hope of stumbling on some unvarnished truth.
He sat quietly on the chair, puffing his cigarette, blowing smoke in circles like a hollow around his head. The only spectator to a one woman, crazy performance. His words: “There is no one else”, nipped my violent release of South African slang in the bud, but did not cease to the endless questions in my lure less mind.
On a day of great despair he made his exit like a stranger with a girl I use to call my friend. With the power of a warrior, in a single blink they ripped out my heart, caught me off guard, left me there, without a song, bound to the past, the pain; and deceitful games.
Cursing, decent words seem to disappear, no class only the extreme seems to fit the anger. The light of the bright world dies with the dying sun, yet the light of a whole life dies, when love is done. Facing it was like facing death, a slow, horrible death. The nightmare of a relationship ending, worse still the indescribable loss of tiny human seed that will never grow to see daylight.
Gradually I started loosing self-esteem, started drinking more and more, lost all sense of time, staring out the window, glass in the hand. The grass had withered away, I failed to see anything green, chain smoking, shaking, immobilized by all that has taken place, anger smashed any hope of beauty.
My bedroom became a true retreat of sorrow and despair. I got so tired, yet I couldn’t sleep. Falling into darkness, going out of my mind, haunting visions, all consuming thought provoking, paralyzing fear, faceless, dragged me around. Mother Teresa once said: “Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty”. I agree.
I had to snap out of my chosen stupor. In the book “The game of life and how to play it”, Florence Scovel Shinn wrote: “Live all you can, it’s a mistake not to. It doesn’t matter what you do in particular, so long as you have your life. If you haven’t had that, what have you had?…What one loses, one loses, make no mistake about that…The right time is anytime that one is still so lucky as to have time…live!” Her words gave me new vision.
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