Pawanraj Sadhwani

I want to talk to you.

But I can't.

I can't. And I watch in despair, as I shout, I scream... I say the words that you cannot hear. I despair as I see two steady streams - of words - of thoughts - of understanding, flowing down into the valley that now stands between us... deepening it even more, eroding the rocks that remain. I see you trying to tell me things that I don't understand because they cannot leap across the vast emptiness between us. I see how things I say don't reach you because they disappear into the darkness of the gap that I cannot bridge.

And I cannot bridge it, because the bridge is gone.

The bridge. The bridge that I thought - knew - would always hold. The bridge made out of "... I love her", and reinforced with "She knows I love her, and she loves me too". The bridge that I could, and would, always use to cross over the gap we now stand on either sides of. It withstood so much... the fire, the earthquakes, the rocks, the rain, and the explosions. It shook, stretched, swung, but it never cracked. In the end, it let me get to you, no matter what.

That bridge is now gone. Perhaps, the strength of that bridge, those words, I misunderstood. It turns out, that bridge could crack. It turns out, that words can damage, and did irreparably damage, this bridge. Perhaps, I placed too much faith in the strength of those words. To me, those words were inviolate. Elementary. And I didn't see any cracks. How could there be cracks in something that was inviolate? I didn't realize there could be. I didn't know.

But well, now I know. Know that what you don't know CAN hurt you. And I am lost. Without that bridge, I am lost. I've screamed my loudest till I can't scream any more. I've tried to throw a couple of ropes over, to rebuild this bridge. But even the smallest shock breaks it up.

I am trying. But I am also tiring. I can't do this by myself. I need help. To stabilize the fragile structure a little, so I can get to you. So I can hear you again. So you can hear me again. Without it, I don't know what to do. I will keep trying. I will keep shouting. I'll keep trying to build it back till I have not the strength to move any more.

Because I still, just want to talk to you.