I don’t know what happened that day, the day you changed, the day you left. It was like the earth swallowed me up while propelling you into space.
It all happened so fast.
I think it takes longer to blink, but somehow I saw you go. Like a slow motion movie where hands are parted, reaching, reaching, reaching. Yet I don’t think you looked back once and my hands were being covered in the earth, buried like a soul in darkness.
I was so very little and became smaller under the weight of the world. And you, you… you became a giant in the notion of forever existence, floating among the stars and claiming all of the light. Leaving me to fall to your mournful grave, believing you were the super-hero who would return to save my life.
Your power became that of science fiction proportion, with powers unimaginable, toxic and consuming.
But what you could not conceive when you left me to rot was that my power became that of the earth. I became one with the soil and the water and all of life. And I am growing… painfully, slowly and sometimes falling back into the earth, but re-emerging with the strength and grace that only living through the earth can provide.
You became that of legends and monsters and fiction. And in truth you are light-years away. Your dark, super-natural forces could not hold me.
You were always death. I became life.
Originally published at Meraki