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The Unwelcomed Visitor

He came without an invitation.  He had been lurking in the shadows for days.  I'd get a glimpse of his face now and then, and wonder why he was hanging around.  Often he would retreated to the shadows, I'd breathe a momentary sigh of relief, still wondering when he would make his presence fully known. 
Today, he finally came and entered without hesitation or warning.  I had tried to bolt the door shut, but he managed to push past me.  His dreary presence was uncomfortable, his disposition gloomy.  He sidled next to me and whispered his intent.  My soul shuddered!  Not again, "I whispered!"  It made no difference.  He was here and I had to abide his stay no matter how long the visit. 

It wasn't a choice I made that beckoned him to come.  I had not invited him, nor was I desirous of his visitation.  He just came like he always does.  He sneaks up on us, often finally making an entrance when least expected.  I pondered why and contemplated his persistence.  He is relentless.  How long would he stay this time?  The last time he appeared, he had stayed for a few days, despite my appeals and resistance.  He does that.  He has a mind of his own and pays no mind to my wishes or feelings.   

We sat together in silence for a few hours.  I begged him to go.  I pleaded and reasoned with him as best I could, though by now his gloom had poisoned my mind.  The mental fog was doing it's job.  Clarify of thought was fleeing quickly.  I withdrew trying to let him know I was not about to entertain him graciously.  I spoke and insisted once again that he should go away, but leaving was not on his mind.   

He had returned with a mission bent on taking me low.  He sucks the life from my already weary soul. The joy and zest for living are instantly gone.  The things I love are unappealing.  My lips become dry; my mouth is like cotton.  My eyes glaze over with that familiar thousand yard stare. My bones seem to melt like wax and I am driven to retreat. I'm all frayed and frazzled. Such destruction is in his path.   

I had no choice but to sit quietly to endure his company .  As I often do, I still my heart, mind and soul.  Mental and physical rest seem to be the only response I am capable of making. As I rest, I realize, once again, it dilutes his effect on me. His visit is pure torment.  I am numb, cold, emotionless and still. 

The hours drag on. Night falls and though he is still here I am lonely and afraid.  I spend time reading to distract my mind.  I like writing thoughts down in my large's already full of encounters like this.  Nevertheless, I write until my hand grows weary and my eyes are heavy.  I breath a prayer for sustenance and grace.  Perhaps with the dawn of a new day, relief will come in finding he slipped out and disappeared into the dark night.  


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