The Place

I know a place. It’s a frightening place, a dark place, a painful and lonely place. It’s a place I can’t take you and that I’ll never show you. It’s the closest place to hell that anyone could imagine. It’s a place that would take the biggest and strongest man and reduce him to a blubbering pile of tears and snot and make him cower beneath his blankets, hiding, sobbing, and wish for peace or sweet departure.

I was lost there once. I wandered for days in the dark, alone and afraid, looking for something, anything that I could grasp to pull myself from the deep, dark pit I call the place. I walked and I called. I searched and I pondered. I was alone in the dark and the cold loneliness.

I finally came to my breaking point. I was afraid and in pain, full of despair. I cried and I whined. I cowered and clutched my pillow beneath my blankets like a life preserver. All hope was lost; all my strength gone from my body and mind. I came to the realization that I had a choice to make; I could either muster every last bit of courage and strength I possessed and use every fading thought of hope and drag myself from this hell, or I could stay there and die.

As painful and hard as it was, I slowly got up. I trudged through the dark. I called and I screamed. I flung my arms wildly in the dark looking for something, anything; I didn’t know what, until finally, my hand fell upon something. I clutched it as if my very life depended on it.

I pulled and I groaned then I kicked and I jumped and I pulled myself from that deep hell hole, full of darkness and despair. Finally I saw light. I climbed toward it with hope and I could smile again. I wiped the tears from my eyes as I climbed out of the hellish pit. I slowly crawled away from its edge, trying to get as far from that frightening place as I could.

That was a long time ago. I’ve almost forgotten that place but the memory still lingers. It’s not far away, its close by. Sometimes, when I carelessly wander about in the light and I don’t pay attention I find myself at its edge. I can see the darkness hovering over it and feel its chilling, cold loneliness. Then I remember the pain and I step cautiously praying never to step on its soiled ground again for fear that the ugliness will overcome me.

It’s a bad place and I never want to return there again. I can’t explain it to you; you’ll have to see it for yourself. You’ll know if you see it. Perhaps you've already been there.

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