He had heard something once in the darkness of his mind. A simple question with meaning beyond his comprehension. It would echo through the entirety of his life.
“Are you okay?”
A boy sitting alone, waiting for the beating to come. He used to turn off the lights in his room, thinking he could find some security in the darkness, but the lights would always come back on. The lights signaled the beginning of hellfire, the darkness a place where he could find some strength in his solitude. Eventually, when the beasts weakened and had their fill, the lights would turn off again. That’s when he’d hear the question of one beast to the other.
“Are you okay?”
A young man laying in a drunken stupor wishing the woman next to him would go away. His flesh was so weak but yet he indulged; his mind so wounded he’d need numbness in attempts to not to feel the pain. His drunkenness was not an addiction, but he thought it would be a nice distraction. Something would drive the demons from his mind. Something would heal the wounds the lighttime had inflicted. There had to be something that would show him love. He would turn to the woman and ask, “are you okay?” She’d smile, always wanting more.
There was little more he had to give. Still, the flesh would be willing even if the mind had withdrawn to someplace safer. There, in the darkness of his mind…
“Are you okay?”
It wasn’t the question he sought numbness from. It was the answer. The young man ran from the answer with all the speed he could muster. Still the question dogged him. He would run into burning buildings always asking the question. He would hold the hand of the injured and always want to know. There were people he’d find in various places of need and the words would tumble from his lips.
“Are you okay?”
One day he decided it had to end. He was tired of being chased but mostly he was tired of running. Through tears and anguish he finally knelt in the snow, looked within and asked the question he had never asked himself.
“Are you okay?”
Each tear that ran down his cheek was an answer, each sob a reply. Suddenly, the numbness that had been his friend vanished and, in the darkness, a light had appeared. For the first time in his life the light didn’t scare him; it led him. He was never afraid of the dark and, in that moment, he would no longer fear the light. He had made friends with both.
Finally the experiences of his life in darkness were not a source of weakness, but of strength. He could walk the path of light holding hands with the darkness and find both had taught him well. There was no need for sadness, for the spirit had arisen in him. He could walk confidently even if others did not understand his gait. He had found his home and he would never leave.
An old man laid in the stillness of the night, gazing at stars in the darkness. He marveled at their beauty and their power, wondering how such beasts of the sky could look so small when surrounded by the darkness. A smile crested his lips as he realized that it’s not the size of the light or the darkness that defined them. They existed for one another. They cannot fear each other for the breath of life is breathed into one by the existence of the other. They are, if nothing else, partners in the truth.
And he realized that he was one of them, a star in the darkness of night.
His interlude was interrupted by the heart that beat beside him. He could feel her breath on his naked skin as her fingers touched his back. The Lioness to his Lion, the sheath to his sword, she kissed his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He smiled, and turned to her. “Yes, I am okay.”