There are times when it’s further under the surface. There are other times it’s so close to the surface that you can almost see it. It’s always there though. That’s the truth of the pain and the hurt. The feelings that swirl and tumble under the calm surface.
They tumble and twist, creating torrents of discord in the underneath, the unseen.
Most days now it resides down deeper than it used to live. The usual now is an easier-to-live-with place that only sometimes breaches the surface.
Usually the winds of day to day life ruffle the surface and the pain is nowhere to be seen. Most days now, even strong gusts can churn the top layers of normalcy and the hurt doesn’t quite break through. It’s taken a few years to get here but that’s the way it is most days now.
Some days though, it sits just barely concealed. Almost visible to the naked eye. Those who know it’s there can see it then. The covering is too thin to hide it. On those days, even the smallest hint of a breeze is enough to blow away the veil and let it rise up. It easily breaks free and soars into the light, unbridled and unable to be controlled. It tears apart the fabric of the carefully and slowly built stability of life now. It threatens that it will stay free, it screams at the sheer expanse of space that it has to fill; and fill it, it does.
On days like those it feels like it will never settle back into its slumber. It is hard to believe that the usual now is not those days, but rather the ones where it is deeper under the surface. Not near it and not through it. On days like those it helps to have others to hold onto and to ride out the storm with me when it feels like I’ll be blown away and maybe not come back. On days like those it’s sometimes best to face the maelstrom alone . To know that I can calm it. The power to feel its wrath and hurt and still wake the next day to see that it is in it’s usual place again. The place where, while it may give the surface shadows and ripples, it’s far enough down to live with.