The Ones Outside

The ones outside are always there. The barrier is like a snow globe. The ones outside don’t know what it’s like on the inside. They spy a little spark inside, imagine a possible peace. What’s it like in there? Is it cold, is it just right? Is the snow real? Is there any way in?

Us out here, we’re like ghosts that can bump into each other. We’re comfortably numb on the good days. Ethereal and magical, and not to be confined to what makes sense. Not meant to cross the barrier where the ones inside move about. When we get too close, oh it squeezes and squeezes until we might burst. We forget we can't cross. We move toward the spark--it whispers so familiar, there is a little breeze of joy, but then the squeeze comes and life flashes before our eyes in hot stabbing pains. Our breath is taken away like a punishment, only returned when we think it will never come.

Sometimes the ones inside might see us out here. They know we're here, they can feel it, they see a shimmer. They know we peer in and they wonder why we're not in where they are. But surely if you belonged in, you’d already be. Yes, there is an order to things! If you are the ones outside that's where you should be. If you came in, things would be...uncomfortable.

What none of them know is that the outside is where the light comes from. The ghosts remain at the barrier making sure the spark doesn’t die, all the while those in never know the spark comes from out. They don't know they can move the barrier, the ones inside. If they moved the barrier the light would be so bright it would be hard to comprehend and it would overflow into a harmonious swirl of inside and outside.

But they don't know.

The ones outside fade, we try to help the others but we feel the sting of the barrier and the fade passes unnoticed. Once we see the fade, it's too late. Once they diminish we can send them gently into the nothing and the others make the spark remain. Sometimes during the fade they'll foolishly try to burst through the barrier. The pain is immense. The ones inside, they see it happening but they don't know the barrier causes pain. They see a flutter and then it's gone. They think it must just be what it's like outside. Outside we know it's one final desperate plea, one agonized scream to be with the ones inside, be reunited with the light that is ours.

We are simply blades of grass. No one notices a single blade removed. It's only when all are gone that the ones inside will notice what's missing. Why do we remain? Why do we tend the spark? Is it a duty, an instinct, a curse? It's the only way to be near it. Seeing the spark gives enough false hope that the ones outside remain, just in case one day the ones inside discover they can remove the barrier, remove the pain, rejoin and rejoice with their other halves. Before the barrier we were one, each with our own light to share.

Soon, the ones outside will no longer be seen but they will be locked to the inside light, with no will of their own, the light no longer full, the ones inside in a fury. An unintended trap of no one's making that will bring the end of all things...but they don't know until the end. The barrier will never move, the ones will never reunite, the light will never be full, and harmony cannot be any other way. We all become the ones of the nothing. Perhaps...if we're lucky and hopeful, a new light will come when we're gone but together.