There is a place above the atmosphere of the earth, where stars and satellites live.
It is a large void, with sparse images being transmitted from the distant past.
We live on a rock in this void, a rock we call the Earth,
Hurtling through this void at speeds uncomprehendingly large.
As I zoom into our lives in this terrifyingly large yet beautiful contraption we call the universe, I have more questions than answers.
I struggle to get up and engage in any of the rituals that form my day,
A sadness indescribable overwhelming every cell in my body.
I feel an urge to channel all the pain and sadness onto myself;
In a way that is visible and recognisable, to comprehend it, to make sense of the pain.
I succumb at times, and at times I do not, and instead pick up my phone,
Yearning to hear the voice of a loved one, and hear that perhaps it will all be okay.
I feel at times that I am hurtling through space without a tether,
With no set trajectory and no set plan, just hurtling with the momentum of a fast train,
Just half an inch of spacesuit between me and a pressure-less, oxygen-less, void.
Perhaps that’s why I wake up unable to breathe so very often,
It’s not actually breathlessness, but a fear of it that stops me from breathing.
I am angry at how far I am from so many of the people I love,
I am sad at the possibility that this distance will increase over time.
As I speak to a loved one many time zones away,
I hope that we will all conquer any barriers in our way.
I also hope we will find loved ones wherever we go. I hope.
But this hope doesn’t always last, it rarely does.
It feels like a small transmission from Mission Control, a lovely but small respite,
As I continue hurtling through the void of space, struggling for breath.
Perhaps they’re all hurtling through space too, struggling to breathe, in their own ways.
Perhaps you feel this breathlessness as well. If you do, I want you to know:
I understand how you feel. You’re not alone, not entirely.
Perhaps one day we will float past each other for a hot minute.
Perhaps we will have a few moments; live, just a little bit. I really hope we do.
Until then, I hope you can breathe. I send you all the love in the world.
I see no other solution, but to share our love when we can, as we hurtle through.
Perhaps one day we will learn to breathe, and return to the earth, grounded once more.
Perhaps.
I hope to see you that day. Until then, all my love is yours, forever and always.
Note: Some of the imagery in this piece is inspired by Abigail Thorn of Philosophy Tube’s video titled “[Suic!de and Ment@l He@lth](Suic!de and Ment@l He@lth)” from September of 2018. It is a heartbreakingly beautiful video, and I highly recommend you watch it.
I wrote a follow up to this piece almost a year after I wrote this one.