Lost!

You know the feeling, when you've lost something, probably out of your own stupidity, and you can't seem to get it out of your head.... Well, I've been having that feeling. It feels like I've been stripped of myself and can't figure out why. It's a weird thing, when something you had taken for granted, knew was a part of your existence, in some way defined you, is no longer there in your life. An empty space, no, a gaping hole remains in place of what once filled the most beautiful part of me. They say you never know what you had till you lose it. I knew exactly what I had, I just never thought I'd be dumb enough to lose it!

Loss is nothing new to me. I have endured probably as much as everyone else at this stage in my life. But, the feeling of knowing I can never have the same exact thing, ever again, drowns me in a bottomless pit. Yes, there is always that hope that the future will bring back what was once mine, and make this just a distant memory, something I have learned from, but who am I kidding. I've gone back a thousand times, in my mind, and tried to figure out how I could have just let go of something that was more precious than gold, just walked away from that one thing that was me. I have wondered, in the dark recesses of my mind, what has become of my 'precious'? Did someone else find what I had lost, and am I the only one who doesn't know? I hate myself for walking away, but did so anyway, knowing full well the consequences of staying, when darkness had fallen on me.

I feel naked! Fully clothed, in public view, yet with the knowledge that I have nothing on, and see the piercing eyes of those who look at me, and judge. You know the dream, everyone's had it, of being the only one in a crowded room, who is naked, with the end result of being laughed at. It's not the nakedness that bothers anyone, it's the being laughed at that touches our insecurity. For me it's that insecurity compounded by the fact that now, I am left with nothing to make me feel the way I used to. My memories are the only thing that serve as a reminder of an attachment meant to last a lifetime.

The dried earth now a testament to my loss. A million blades pointed at me, refusing me the pleasure of finding my treasure. I live on hope and faith that someday, soon, I will have, what truly belongs to me. But till then I am bent over, now in daylight, on the lawn, looking for my earring.