The Temporary Radiance

Perhaps it is the taming of the looming darkness that remains stashed close beneath the surface. Or perhaps it is merely the zephyr that lingers ever so slightly longer than usual. It may even be the mysterious aroma of freshly-sprung blossoms rising in the air, its felicity diffusing far too quickly. I inhale; it doesn't burn, so I try once again. The tender fragrance emanated from the surroundings fills my lungs, inflating them with a peaceful sensation that they had believed to be long gone. I am taken aback by the tranquility of it all, but I finally persuade myself to revisit the memories of last spring as they probe from underneath the layer of darkness, battling to come to life. Without another moment of hesitation, I give them a chance.

The darkness retreats ever so ponderously, pausing to dwindle over a certain region every now and then, as if to warn me of the danger lurking below the surface. But I know what to expect, I know precisely what vile reminiscence fills the hollow to the brim. Perhaps the reviving warmth of the spring, after months of the ominous cold, is what gives me the courage. Or maybe it's nothing but the newborn flowers that promise a new life. Whatever the stimulus may have been, I push aside the black cover to reveal all that takes refuge beneath it.

With the density of the darkness out of the way, the glow of light bursts out without interruption, right into my eyes, as I squint to retain my eyesight. It makes my eyes water, but does not blind me. Not this time. But that is just because it's not the actual light, just a faded memory. I wear my most genuine smile as my eyes begin to adjust to the dazzling glow. I had forgotten exactly how beautiful it happened to be. So breathtakingly beautiful that I had been forced to lock it up, just in case it makes another sinister attempt to blind me again. Now I dare to look directly into the light. My constricted pupils wander across the beam, searching for the powerful source that emits such a striking dazzle. My eyes find the radiator and they freeze. The genuine smile still remains plastered to my face, but the ecstasy wavers by just a little at the sight, for I see all that I once had, all that was once on the warm surface instead of being shoved on the underside in the form of a mere memory.

I walk briskly through the reminiscence, pausing before the dilapidated edifice in which the morose remains lay motionless. Gathering my newly found strength and courage, I peek inside and see the visions playing before me like a silent film. I was being hurled to and fro between the devil and a deep sea, the cataclysm inching down upon me, more smothering than ever before. Then there had been the burst of light; so new, yet so familiar that I extended my hand to reach for it. The moment I welcomed the illumination, the disaster shrank inconceivably until it was nothing but a speck of soot on the floor. The light had been my saviour and support while I climbed the steep walls of hope once again.

I do not know for sure what it was that made the climb so easy, so lucrative, but I believe that it was the developing aura of last spring. Before I had time to contemplate, I was mounted on the top of the wall, above all that was only ordinary. Unable to contain my alacrity, I turned to face the luminescence to share the joy of the moment. But it was nowhere to be seen. I searched desperately, I screamed out by its name, but it had simply disappeared. The light had guided me to the zenith and now its job was done. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks and my steps faltered, my feet slipping off the narrow edge, as the mauling fear and hollowness engulfed me.

I gasped for air, I battered my limbs in every direction until they wore out from exhaustion. I accepted the fall as I continued to plummet down towards the ground, but never finding the certainty of the firm land beneath me. It was during this very fall that I began to construct the layer of darkness over the haunting memories of the treasured uphill journey.

However, as I now stand watching the silent film after yet another ominous winter, a realization strikes me: Perhaps it's the climb, the journey up the wall was all that mattered. All the melancholy caused afterwards by the missing radiance was just a part of the bigger lesson. As I rhapsodize the kindness of my luminous friend, I suddenly feel my feet on the ground. I am at the foot of the wall, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that I am standing on the surface, clutching the cherished memories. This can only mean one thing: I will now be able to climb once again, the memories of the past will be guiding me this spring, and for that I am eternally grateful.