The Black Hole

There is a black hole. You may not see it. But it is there. Trust me. Some days it will keep its distance, allowing sunlight to coat the surroundings. But it is never far, and always within reach. At times, I can hear voices beckoning from inside. Sometimes they are cruel, reminding me of every foible and every fumble I have ever taken. Other times, they are comforting, assuring me that they only offer help in healing what has been broken. I want to listen to them. I would give anything to make the pain dissipate just a bit. But often it is hard to concentrate on them. I will find myself humming a lovely new song. Or laughing with a friend. Or smiling as someone who has touched my heart takes hold of my hand. And the voices grow dim. And the black hole becomes shadowed as sunlight shines brightly but ever briefly. But always before long, the black hole will return to prominence just beside me. It is a cunning sycophant, constantly offering an end to suffering. But sunlight and music and love are powerful motivators. They bolster me. And mostly keep me smiling. But it has been a long struggle. And I have grown weary. And often I find myself pondering the ease of simply closing my eyes and falling backward into the ever waiting black hole. It is the one thing which will always be there for me when everything and everyone else might be taken short. And there is something to be said for reliability. For the moment, I am looking into the sunlight. It feels magnificent on my face. But the voices are quietly noticeable behind me. And my eyes are growing heavy with despair. I leave it to them as to who is a more powerful ally. Just a few moments to rest my eyes. I can still feel the heat of the sun caressing my cheek. For now.