Just us and Eric Benet

Here I sit in the dark, with the feeble moonlight barely penetrating the gloom of the living room. The light of my beloved mac is the only glow within, illuminating my drawn and exhausted visage, giving me the look of one haunted. Maybe I am.

Haunted by desires unfulfilled and memories of happier days. Yearning that things could have remained as they were and still hoping that the harshness of reality will take another step back and leave me in peace. In relative peace.

For escapism can no longer be a lasting release. If I am truthful to myself, it has not been for years. Once that barrier of denial was broken it meant that I have been forever forced to be in a state of duality... aware of more than I have been before, and making conscious choices because it has been the only way to be. Taking responsibility for all my actions.

Snatches of a sexy Eric Benet tune are filtering through to my consciousness as I type, and it makes me sad. It reminds me of the lies we tell ourselves to get through difficult days, in vain, hoping to emerge unscathed... only to fail.

A choice is looming on the horizon. A question mark hangs in the air. An answer, the only obvious answer, is slamming against my consciousness, reminding me of its presence. Annoying, unrelenting and unforgiving.

I am no longer clear about my reasons for resisting its presence. But my body is weak with exhaustion and my mental state overburdened by a fully charged day - the incredible high of being on the go now dragged into balance by a melancholy brought on by the weekly Friday 'triggers' that I have come to expect and dread, which I no longer have the strength to attempt to influence positive change upon.

But acknowledgment. Truly, it is out of my control... yet somewhere along the way, 'acceptance of the things I can't change' has come to equate 'things that I have failed to foresee.' When did I form that belief? And in an ironic twist, I hate that I did not see it rearing its ugly head.

But it's okay. I am okay, and everything will be fine. Tomorrow is another day and once sleep claims me, my troubles will fade away again like so much dew on a tropical morning. The sun rising with renewed vigour, as will I.

Until then though, it's just us... and Eric Benet.