I fell asleep for a while and woke up again. Afterwards, I lay in bed just turning some things over in my mind. I can’t remember what. The future, maybe.
And it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t miss Nata. For five minutes at least, no one was screaming for Nata either on the surface or in a dissociated, distant way.
Then, of course, I did miss her, because I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to tell her that, for five minutes, life was not agony. It was okay. Which means something significant.
So I cried. That was okay too. It was an okay kind of sadness, an okay kind of crying. It wasn’t a chest-getting-ripped-open kind of sadness. Just sadness.
Something has happened. The heat has come down. I am not saying I expect life to be easy now or to have turned some dramatic corner—there is certainly more trauma to deal with where all the other trauma came from—but the possibility of a five-minute break from pain is astounding to contemplate. It suggest possibilities. It suggests that all of this might very well be worthwhile.