Joris Iven |
MONOLOGUE
Today I have so many reasons for missing you, sis. I could easily blame you, but do not do so because I know the path I myself have taken and how strong a pull boundaries have had on me. It was a day in February, like today. Fresh, with mist hanging in the air. I came into the room and you were lying on the sofa. Your face was cold, your arms at your sides. This could have happened any day. Every evening we were afraid of the night, every morning we feared the day. Everything has its appointed time, as you knew. Leaves fall when their time to fall has come. But you anticipated your time. You have violated the laws of nature, and what is worse, the silent agreement we had with each other. We were to hold out together, no matter how dark and winding the paths were that we took. We were to save each other at all times, but I have not been able to hold you back. Each time someone left you, you wanted to leave the whole world. Like father once wanted to throw your doll out the window, you threw yourself out of life. I could have forgiven you everything, but not this act since it it so irrevocable. I miss you. I miss your face, your arms, your birthday cards. And I blame you today, because you left us like no one ever left you.
· Essays · Toneel |