...to have...

I didn’t know it hurt until it didn’t anymore. Like a vaguely well known actor who steels the headlines only after a fatal drug overdose or private jet disaster. It’s like a pain so familiar that somehow it just becomes comfortable. A tension almost reassuring. Like a pinch to ensure your still awake or a cut to prove your real enough to bleed.

I can’t tell yet if its completely gone, or if I even am ready to give it up. The odd thing is, the pain is a comfort. A light in a dark room. Even an eerie glow, is still a glow at all. And now.. now that it is lifting I fear that I will miss it. Or rather that I will become accustomed to the weight being lifted, and suffer when it comes back. Like if you go outside without a coat on, you will be cold. Still you will adjust much faster having never had a coat than if you started with one, knew the warmth you could have, and then had it taken away.

I think I had that coat once..

Or at least I thought I did. I can remember feeling warm, warm enough at least. But, I remember more how cold it was once the coat was gone. So cold, I ran outside and lied in the snow and cried until my tears froze on my face. Now, so accustomed to cold that warmth feels strange, I fear that is I have it I will never survive if it gets taken away.

I know that does not really make much sense. For it is better to love and loose then never to have loved at all. Better to miss a happy memory than to have no memory to reflect on. Still, is the pain really worth the pleasure?

A blind man having never seen cannot really miss the ability of a sight he has never known.. while a seeing man who can see no more will always remember what it was like to have the sight. The color of the sun set, the lush green of the grass, the glimmer of the snow, the eyes of the one he loves. But do those memories help him or hurt him? Would he be better off to know only the feel and imagination and not know what he is missing? Could the imagination conjure images even more spectacular than those in reality? Could a blind imagination conjure images at all?

I remember discussing bravery in Beowulf. The question came up on whether Beowulf was truly brave if he did not have the ability to know fear. Just as with Adam and Eve. Were they truly good if they did not know the capability of evil?

Now in our world we are born with the knowledge of evil… what would it be like if all evil was lifted…?

Would we be capable of recovering if it was given back again.

Like in the seasons. Coming off of winter, 50 degrees feels amazingly warm. You might even consider a T-shirt. Whereas on the other side, coming off of summer, 50 degrees feels like a freeze. You might even consider a sweat shirt or light jacket.

What I’m saying is. Am I ready for the weight to be gone, for the evil to disappear, for the coat to be wrapped around me. Am I ready to know what its like to see again?...and will I let myself… or will the fear of loosing it once again keep me away…?