Life’s Pace…

She is heavy and slow, every movement is an effort and yet nothing much is accomplished. “I’m so beat”, she sighs, while I try and contemplate what is going on in her head. She is sad, almost broken and empty from the separation. It is not sure when they will meet again but she continues talking to him for hours on end. I see no point to this, and I tell her. Try and break free, but she is so fragile. I try to protect her in this weary state not knowing when and what to say to soothe her pain. He has disappointed her and let her go and now she is my responsibility. His motives are unclear to all, even to himself. I assume the worst, his fear of commitment and settling down have gotten the best of him. But I doubt he would commit had she stayed. My husband says it’s over. “Just get it over with” he tells her, almost yelling and she is appalled even at the notion.

She is sluggish and weighed down with thoughts. She moves like a snail and I remember that her usual pace is slower than mine. She is not focused, reading and not comprehending. She is careless and lazy, doing only as she is told and leaving loose ends open. She is neither me, nor I her but we are oh too similar. She is me 6 years ago, before my husband and I became serious. I am her in the future, or at least I hope. Baby sisters always stay babies, but I wish she would grow and see the world for what it really is. Her movements are limp, her muscles soar, and her joints ache almost as much as her heart.

I try to have fun, passing the time and discussing other people’s problems, always the best remedy. I treat her and pamper her all the while touring one of the most beautiful cities in the world. She is shocked and amazed and is beginning to fall in love, this time with the city. “I can see myself here” she mumbles. “I hope he can too”, she murmurs under her breath just loud enough for herself to hear. “What do people do here that they can live so well?” she asks with the curiosity and innocence of a young girl. “Oh”, I answer, “lots!”, and begin to describe the various high-paying jobs this metropolis caters to. She listens attentively waiting for me to touch on the trade her lover holds. Carefully, I move on to something else, pointing out the old-fashioned horse carriages along the park. It is beginning to settle in, I can see, slowly but surely. Her mind is slower than her body, taking in ideas and concepts one by one and then rehashing their significance at a dawdling pace.

She is young but her spirit old and weak. She is not who I remember but she will soon be. I intend on brining her back to life and this monstrosity of a city will help me do so. We look up and suddenly feel a whir of dizziness when staring at the skyscrapers. Indeed, the landmark has been ruined yet the modern piece is far from frightening. I pray the city’s pace becomes hers and she can walk alongside me instead of lag behind me. I pray we will walk these streets proudly and our feet will lead the way to a brighter and quicker pace. A pace of accomplishment, renewal and LIFE!!!