Illuminated In The Dark

And if Jena met him in the dark one more time, she might as well become a bat. Nocturnal and oblivious, love may very well be blind. During the day, he promised that she was the best thing in the world, treasure, a rare diamond but at nights, she was reduced to coal, the leftovers that not even the miners wanted. Yet, Jena continued to stumble in the dark, continually reducing herself. Perhaps, one day, at this rate, she would become the actual darkness itself.

And if psychology cared to explain, it would declare that everyone Jena needed to trust at the most pivotal points of her life were like backstabbing thorns. Psychology would dissect her and say that Jena had learned to associate the darkness with feeling safe; that it was better to recieve love under a veil than out in the open. Something in her, however was brewing a revolution, something was finally acknowledging that love in the dark was not right. It was an injustice!

And so, one night, as he approached slowly, his blinding headlights found her. Jena stood at the edge of the road, where she always did, any more and she'd tilt over, and the sudden flood of his white light stretched her shadow across the pavement. She stared at it, unable to look away. Her shadow exposed the truth. It was bent at the waist, crooked at the shoulders, its head hanging as though even her shadow had grown tired of carrying her. For the first time, she did not see the woman he called beautiful in daylight. She saw what was left of the woman that allowed a man with a woman to consume her. If her shadow could shout "stupid," I bet it would. The headlights moved closer, and her shadow twisted longer, distorted and broken. It occurred to her then that perhaps the darkness had never been hiding him from her. Perhaps it had been hiding her from herself.

He stepped out of the car and called her name the way he always did, softly, tenderly, but this time, the charm did not work. She would have run to him, as was the norm, she would have become gullible and mistaken the warmth in his voice for warmth in his heart. This time though, Jena remained where she was, staring at the shadow between them. When he reached for her hand, she pulled it back. The light had finally shown her something the darkness never could; she was not coal waiting to be turned into a diamond. She had been a diamond all along and she had become a treasure he could no longer possess.

Jena looked at him. "Goodnight,” she said. He smiled back, proudly, already certain that she would follow him and let him plunder. Jena turned instead and began walking in the opposite direction. She actually left him there, his mouth aghast. She walked slowly at first, almost expecting the familiar ache to pull her back. It didn't. Behind her, the car remained idling, its headlights spilling across the road like a wounded animal, she did not care to turn around. He desperately called her name. That Jena was gone, little did he know.

Illumination came from the darkness, after all, thanks to the truth that spilled from her shadow. Witbout spekaing, her shadow told a great tale. No man would ever again, be the reason Jena stood in the dark.