DARK PLACES

Here we are—again after all these years. It’s been a very hard thing for me, waiting, hoping you’d get here. I wasn’t sure you’d come.

Before we head out: a warning. I’m not quite sure what we are going to find. Yes, my patience grew thin and I did take a look, but, you’ll see, it’s quite dark down there. Not to worry—the eyes adjust, given time; the soul adapts. And, most importantly: we’ll be together.

Always, I’ll be with you.

We have people to visit. Strained whispers to hear. Shadows to outline and gazes that are best avoided. Places that don’t want us. Sad, lonely creatures that have done their best to avoid the light.

Don’t think too much about it. Make sure to keep moving. If you should hear something that sounds like your own name being spoken from one of the dark corners we pass—ignore it. It’s only your mind playing tricks. If you should see someone you think you recognize—a friend, a lover, yourself—do not look it in the eye.

And if you are afraid, know that I am too.

Take my arm and don’t let go, not even for a moment; and if that touch is lost, keep going, we’ll find each other at the end. Do not take hand blindly in the darkness, lest you find yourself being led in the wrong direction.

I know the way. Follow my footsteps. Feel my spirit in the blackness next to yours. And do your best to remember—you’ve been here before.

There it is, just ahead. 

Shall we go?