Nightwalk

Wanderlust, Dan May, acrylic on wood panel, 2013

in the forest, there is no other animal like myself in shape, smell, or stance. every night, i stride through the trees, silently carving narrow paths into the moss, crisscrossing my way from one perimeter’s edge to another. 

the others leave me alone; they think i am strange. unlike the other animals, i require little by way of food, shelter, or sleep; as a result, i find myself with hours to fill and no purpose with which to fill them. the others scurry past me with arms full or backs piled high, sparing little more than a suspicious glance in my direction as they hurry to build their homes and protect their young. for them, everything is driven by survival, whereas i continue to thrive, regardless of how i spend my waking hours. i used to feel guilty about the ease of my life; these days, i wonder why i exist at all, since i seem to hold no place in any of the life cycles that constantly renew themselves around me.

it has been so long since i interacted with another creature; it is difficult to believe that i used to talk nonstop. years ago, there was another like me, two of us in the same forest. together, our focus narrowed on ourselves, leaving no room for questions of existentialism or purpose, each one simply existing for the other. back then, we made plans that became projects that in turn birthed new plans. we were so busy, absorbed in our own world. i didn’t understand that i was living a miracle, spending my days with another who spoke my language and shared my history. because that was all i’d ever known, i assumed that was how it would always be- the two of us, never wanting for more.

it took years to get used to being alone. at first, every cell in my body strained to wish us two back into existence, as if i could harness all the energy in the universe to make it true if i tried hard enough. When that did not work, i began to expect my own demise. our lives had been so closely linked- with one gone, surely i was soon to go too. Yet here i am, still.