A Prisoner of Space and Time, by Colin Frizzell

A Prisoner of Space and Time.

I am no longer a prisoner of space and time.

I move effortlessly through the endless moment. I can choose any point as easily as flipping through photos. Or any point can choose me.

To you I may seem confused, disoriented; perhaps you miss me being in your moment with you and you want to drag me into it and pin me there.

Please don’t.

If I’m happy in the place my mind has taken me, leave me be or join me there. It’s as real to me as your reality is to you.

I can go anywhere. Be any age.

From your perspective my reason is failing, and my thoughts scattered. That may be so.

But I still feel, as you feel, perhaps more deeply as my mind no longer keeps my heart in a cage and my soul is closer to the surface.

I’m sorry if the moment I’m in is before your existence. If the words I say hurt you, because I don’t know who you are. Be assured, I love you—always.

But if I ask after my mother, tell me that she’ll be along soon with Sparky, our little Scottish terrier.

If I want to know where my father is, tell me he is out buying me the red bicycle that I stared at in the shop window.

If I talk of playing in the corn fields with my friends, and how I miss them, tell me we can go and join them in the afternoon.

When I ask after my wife, your mother, tell me she is at the butcher getting us steaks and will be returning with them, and a bottle of wine, shortly.

Tell me my sister is at church singing in the choir.

Tell me my brother is on another trip to Europe.

Tell me that they are happy.

Don’t tell me they’re all gone. I won’t remember in an hour or less, but the grief will be fresh every time.

Don’t be cruel with your honesty.

Do not trap me in that hell, don’t make me relive those painful moments, repeatedly, as I ache to feel their touch and hear their laughter once more.  As I long to listen to them singing.

Let me believe I will see them again soon, in this world—just in case there isn’t a next.

If you can’t find it in your heart to lie to me, or if your imagination isn’t strong enough to join me in a place where all those I have loved can still feel the sun on their face, then just don’t say anything. Let me talk without correction or interruption.

Let me be happy.

I am no longer a prisoner of space and time.

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