I am distraught!
I am missing a journal…the journal…the journal that has the “Acquainted with Grief II” in it. This is the second time that I have written Part II.
I thought it would be really easy to write Part II after I penned “Acquainted with Grief Part I” so quickly. But the first time I wrote Part was after months of being uninspired. Then I caught inspiration at our local poetry group. I wrote it on the backs of the critiques from my fellow poets. After I wrote it I put it somewhere conspicuous, but when I went back to find the pages they couldn’t be found. It took me months to get back the inspiration/courage to tackle it again.
The second time I attempted was on a flight to Maui over a week. I used my new Moleskin journal. I spent several hours pour out liquid heart on to empty pages, as we glided over the Pacific Ocean. Today I went to look for that new Journal and it is nowhere to be found, like it never existed…like I was dreaming and got rudely awakened, never to finish the incredible story line; no matter how many nights I have lucid dreams.
It is like it keeps getting lost in a parallel universe, or that some poetry gnome has an obsession with my Part II, or that I am not supposed to write it at this time…maybe it is meant for a later date and I haven’t found the right voice. As if it has its own will and will only allow itself to be unveiled at a time of its choosing.
I am really bummed but tomorrow I am going to scour all of our luggage. If I don’t find it, then I will call the United Airlines lost and found, the Alamo Rental car lost and found, and the cottage where we stayed for 8 days.
I could care less about the journal but the content is irreplaceable; I am not sure that I have a 3rd interpretation of Part II right now.
The loss is devastating.
Imagine that you reach in to your soul pull a small piece of it out, bringing it in to the world to share with everyone. Now imagine that it has been stolen and tossed into oblivion, off the cliffs of insanity, by the most heinous villain ever.
The villain’s maniacal laughter echoes through missing piece of my soul, as I watch the it float to the merciless crashing breakers…
…Do I jump and try to save it?
…Do I run down the treacherous path and save what the breakers don’t obliterate?
…Do I push the heinous villain over the edge (as if I know who or what it is…it may be myself)?
…Do I forget about it and do the 3rd re-write?
…Do I forget about it all together?
Can my heart take the pain of the possibly of losing it gain, or can I find the courage to try…one more time???