an unwanted guest.

sometimes you are just sad.

sometimes life is filled with sadness.

sometimes that sadness lasts only a moment, passing through you like an old sojourner traveling from one place to the next.  and sometimes that sadness settles in, unpacks for a while, and makes itself at home inside of you like an unwanted guest oblivious of social cues.

these last months i have been filled with sadness. i am not exactly sure at which hour it settled in. i can’t quite pinpoint the moment it began to unpack and make it’s home in me…but it surely did. and i have fought. i have given it, rather rudely at times, every possible social cue that i would like for it to exit from within me. i have opened the doors to my heart and mind and gestured for it to bid farewell. and yet, it remains. my chest feels heavy and my thoughts burdened. i picture it there, under my chest and in my mind, sprawled out and immobile. its presence seems to have displaced all that was there, or should be there, or i believed could be there.  and all this sadness does is remain and fester like an infected wound…just as ugly, just as painful, just as irritating, just as personal.

and as i have fought, i have written.

i have written of all this sadness. i have written of loneliness and misunderstanding. i have written of the number three and transitions. of a faraway land that seems farther away each passing day. of friends who have hurt me. of silence that rings loudly. i have written of burying the only identity i can remember owning for so long now. i have written of the love i can’t seem to find, or perhaps deserve. of the small hands that once hugged my neck and that i can’t hold right now. of the affirmation i desire. i have written of the longing for someone to ask the simplest of questions, and the anger that follows when the silence continues. i have written of pathetic attempts on my part. of the hungry faces of children i would give anything to mother. of others’ selfishness and my own affluence. i have written of injustices in this world which are beyond my understanding. of apathy. of the deep anger i have felt [and maybe i’m still feeling] towards people i hold dear.  i have written of disconnected community. i have written of cancer and mothers who leave too soon. i have written of broken systems and grieving.

and as i have written, i have fought..

and yet, ignoring all my gesturing, the sadness abides.

tonight i drove north towards home. i was returning from what had been a thoroughly holy evening. but in all its holiness it carried so much sadness. and i realized, as the wipers on my miniature car rhythmically wiped the raindrops off my windshield, that even holiness knows sadness.  and that was more than i could bear. and i began to cry. alone in my car i cried. i wish i could say that all my tears were for others, but they were also for myself. for my sadness. for all of the hurt and darkness that has settled under my chest and in my mind recently. i cried, for a long time, i cried.

a friend asked me a bit later if i wanted a hug. in response, i asked “will it make everything different?” i knew the answer. “might comfort for a split second,” he replied, “but no.” of course i wanted a hug tonight. but i also wanted that hug to make everything different. which wasn’t going to happen. alone in my car tonight i drove north and cried. i didn’t receive a hug from anyone, but something quite similar did  happen. as i drove, and as i cried i also listened. and the words of a song comforted for a split second:

anytime you say it with heart

anytime you’re falling apart

when you’re washing the sheets

any stranger you meet

when there’s somebody waving good-bye

you’re coming home to me, just remember

you’re coming home to me

it’s a world full of bar rooms and alleys

of blue nights and red river valleys

when you feel like a shirt and a tie

or like dirt

or a lion and no one can see

you’re coming home to me, just remember

you’re coming home to me

when you get to that place

that’s just under the stars

hanging over the tree…

…when you get there you’ll know

that’s as far as you go

when you get there you’ll see

you were already free

when you get there you’ll la la la la la

when you’re lost and you’re found

when you’re found and you’re lost

when you’re dancing with no one around

you’re coming home to me, just remember

you’re coming home to me

for a split second they comforted. and i’ll keep fighting. maybe this time by remembering who my home is, and writing of that. perhaps that will be the social cue this sadness will understand. because i’m ready for this guest to leave.

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