Hush

A hush sets its sights on the ever after. Through a dim, whispering madness sets into play the contemplation of what has been, what could be, and what is. But nothing is, since the very spectacle of a moment is gone by the time one can even contemplate the existence of a now. In that fragmented moment in time, though, everything can be measured, maintained, and examined, though the snapshot rarely ever gives credence to any accuracy.

Within the hush, that momentary fraction of a second, everything exists while simultaneously nothing exists. Gorgeous though it may be, it also holds equal measures of damage, equal measures of pain, equal measures of hate, and equal measures of love.

Once, I read, that to live in the past is to be depressed, to live in the future is to be anxious, and to live in the now is to be happy. But if it weren't for the thinking of the past, could we ever become better? If it weren't for the thinking of the future, would we have much to live for? And if all we focus on is the now, does that not make us too self indulgent?

There is that hush, again. The ever after. The never before. Hush. Hush. Hush. Perfection can be obtained only in the miniscule moment in time where nothing exists, fragmented from the living and the dead, but the moment that time moves, so does that thing known to be perfect.

I once looked into the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. That moment passed, and with it, the eyes were never the same again.

I once touched the perfect body. It gave way to the complications of humanity.

I once spoke the truest words I could ever say aloud, but no sooner than they left my lips the Earth shifted, the world changed, and with it, the meaning behind the words, too.

A long, long time ago, I believed that one day I would meet someone that would make me feel as though all the pain, all the complications, all of the sacrifice and compromise would be worth it to maintain the relationship with that person. A hush fills that space now.

A hush fills the space where those beautiful eyes once gazed back at me. A hush has fallen upon the hands that explored the perfect body. A hush is all that comes from my lips. A hush on hope.

The fraction of time in which these moments reside, when they were truth, when they were desire, when they were hope, when they were love all fail through the hushes of a lifetime. The hushes of a lifetime, they won't ever contain those moments again.

But enlightenment can give rise through the hush. Live in the past, not to be depressed, but to learn from what led to the hush in the first place. Look towards the future, not to feel waves of anxiety rush over you, but so you can prevent the hush from infiltrating the places not yet reached by it. And feel the present, not as though it is a fragment of time, but rather as it is the only gift you truly have.

Don't be the reason your whole existence is hushed. Don't be the reason someone else's is, either. Even still, embrace what hush is there, for we can all use the space to become better.

-Dustin S. Stover