Sober

Things may not be the same but I am not shutting you out. You are much too alive, much too there to excise with an antiseptic scalpel.

I thought an extreme, all-or-nothing, black and white response will put things to rest. Unfortunately, it only made me think all the more. It may have quieted things for the time being but nevertheless it bothered me. Something was still amiss. I received the answer last weekend.

Last Saturday, I met up with an old friend who has a tumor in her pituitary gland. Thankfully, it's benign, but it's growing and it's affecting her, particularly her optic nerves. Her hormones are shot, she's taking a cocktail of drugs which includes steroids and it's driving her crazy. But under no circumstances will she have the tumor removed because she is more afraid of the competence of the doctor and possible lifelong repercussions than placating that growing ball. She is on a quest that may find her in China to be kinder, gentler to her hibernating visitor.

I find myself in the same position as my friend. All I wanted was to neutralize the poison that has resulted out of our pains. I have done that. On the other hand, I realized that there was something still amiss. That something, much to my surprise, is you.

Before, you were the darkness that prevented my lush garden from thriving. At least, that's what I thought for a very long time. Then it got me to thinking, you don't have to be this vile thing nixed, put out. You could be, well, this rubber duck floating in ernie's bathtub, assuming ernie's bathtub were in a one-hectare garden. You can be a thriving fowl amidst all this splendor, in color, at that. (You could put your own analogy here, one that works best for you.) But I say this: I am not shutting you out.

P.S. A person you detest gave me that piece of advice a long time ago when I was in mourning. I thought I understood the words of wisdom all too well. Boy, was I dead wrong. I suppose the best surprises are those instances when you're proven wrong.