You

Two pieces of toast and a fried egg; as I sit by my quiet place to eat my first and only meal for the day. The sun is beautiful, reliable as always. Clair de Lune is playing softly and the neighbour above drags open his sliding door. It makes a guttering sound. In the distance, there are peals of laughter from somewhere deep in the suburb and the scent of barbecued fish wafts through the air. I was convinced that somebody would be throwing a frisbee at the nearby reserve.

I am quiet. Observing. There is a little lane from where I sit. It passes through the houses, its unobstructed view - a distraction from my empty thoughts. I can hear the voices usually before I see them. There is a couple walking by, they stop halfway right in front of my place - as if it was just for me. They embrace and kiss. They walk on.

My neighbour across from me, appears at his balcony just beginning to discover the sun. He stares at me - probably wondering where my face was. My unruly, frizzy black hair is its usual self - puffy and hanging over my face. Through the strands of my wiry hair, I watch him. He flicks his cigarette and continues to stare. I look up and he quickly glances away.

I return to my thoughts, now focussing on my reverie. I was itching to sing. For so long, I had abandoned my guitar. I used to sing a lot. I'm not fantastic but I think I can hold my own. No words come to my lips. As the sun began to shift, I too shifted my seat, desperate for it's warmth - the one soothing balm to the torrent of thoughts within me. The heat permeates, smoothing out my thoughts into a discernible flow.

Ah yes. You.

I was remembering the first time I really saw you. It was not the first time we had spoken. An image clings in my mind. Your head hung over the steering wheel, your shoulders and arms signalling defeat. You were like a lost child in an overgrown body. I could only stare helplessly.

Then the drive home. Johnny Cash's 'Hurt' was playing. We sat in silence listening to his rough baritones, driving through the quiet suburbs, a shortcut through the city. It was peaceful but something sad lingered in the quiet.

It came crashing back. I had only heard of it, maybe even scoffed at it before. Heartbreak. The hollowness within my chest. It had hurt to breathe. It had hurt to be. It hurt to do anything but I forced myself to go to school. I needed a release. Anything to distract me.

All I wanted to do was to curl up and let sleep take me. As if I could contain the pain within me in that fetal position. It lunged at my skin cruelly threatening to explode. Sleep was oblivion. It was never for rest. It was an escape away from the dark maze that had erected around me, trapping me within. Every turn was a dead end. Everything had ceased to have meaning. I was permanently changed. There was no going back.

The only thing that would drag me out of this uncontrollable despair was prayer. I looked it to it like a parched horse to water. The physical act of washing my face, my hands and my feet taking up all my concentration and giving me momentary relief. As I stood at my mat, I felt the sorrow hit at me like a truck. I was defenseless. My shoulders hunched under its weight. I began to utter the first words. Usually it is a whisper, barely heard. That day it was a desperate plea, a broken cry. My voice became stronger and louder. The hitches in my breath every so often interrupted my utterances - feeble attempts to seal the hole within me.

I had felt it threatening to implode. Unbeknownst to me, my face was already wet. I finished the prayer and curled up on the floor. I laid there, like a broken bird, my fingers clutching at the mat. And the sob broke through and did not stop.

When it finally ceased, I was painfully aware of the black hole. It had become part of me, I was surprised that my body could withstand it at all. I removed my prayer clothing and rubbed my face back and forth. I raked through my entangled hair, letting it sit on me like a mop.

I no longer feel the warmth. The sun had crossed over my balcony, cutting off the pain of the memory. My thoughts return to its jumbled state. My stomach growls in response and the silence is defeaning. My playlist had stopped and the neighbours are quiet. I stare at the little lane. There is no one passing through.

Sighing, I go inside closing the door behind me.