Anesthetized

A wine glass sits atop of a mahogany table. The glass is simple, composed of a base that rests on the table, flat, smooth and perfectly stable. The stem of the glass appears to be too slender, too fragile to support it's cup full of rich, red wine. The cup is hollow, wider at the bottom, slightly less so at the top. Its contents are a deep shade of red, almost purple. The glass is filled nearly to the brim of the sweet smelling liquid.
The air around the glass is suddenly disturbed by a noise. It is soft at first, a nearly imperceptible thrumming noise. It rises slowly, decibel by decibel. The glass is still. The wine within it shudders slightly as the bass of the noise deepens. The louder the noise becomes, the higher the pitch rises. The entire wine glass begins to tremble slightly. The lip of the glass oscillates as the noise wraps around the cup, its pressure tightening around the glass with an unseen grip of dominance. The invisible threatens the visible with its radiating noise that is now swelling to a deafening roar. The glass shakes, the liquid swirls-
With no resistance the glass shatters. Shards repel away from their origin with an unseen force, slicing the air with razor thin edges. Liquid rises through the air in red droplets, as if the thin membrane of glass had been skin, broken, and releasing its secret. Large pieces of glass smash into the mahogany, breaking into even smaller pieces. The wine pools on the table, streaming away from where the base of the glass lay, carrying in its current smaller fragments of glass.
The noise falls silent. The wine pools on the table. The glass lays in a hundred tiny pieces, reflecting light and a shade of red.

I sat on the gray cold steps in the dark. I tugged my coat more tightly around myself. The air is chilly. The darkness is intimidating. Before me lays the quiet town of Ladoga. Above me, the Milky Way spills across the night sky with a brilliancy that takes my breath away. The rest of the night sky sparkles, like a bag of diamonds spilled across a black velvet background. Behind me, my grandmother's house sits still, hiding within it three individuals. Inside of me... Inside of me there were tears longing to be released, emotions broiling with such an intensity that I could barely think straight. Hatred, anger, pain and fear churned like stormy waters within me. I tried to rationalize, but could not. There was nothing to rationalize.
I am the wine glass. I am fragile and frail. Inside of me I hold my feelings, emotions, passions, desires. My wine is a potent combination of deep, troubling issues. My wine is an overwhelming semester, a job, an ex-boyfriend that I gave myself away to, a divorce, a broken family, a numb brother, an absence of my closest friends. The alcohol is a depression. It starts of with a buzz. It warms me. It subdues. As the proof increases, my control lessens. Like a drunkard without inhibition, my anger, my sorrow pours out, manifesting itself in a reckless drive through dark back roads, in tears spilling over marked cheeks, in a raised voice at my mother. As the intoxication increases, a sleepiness settles in. The passion lessens until I am nothing more than a hollow shell, spent. The suppression is strong. I feel the angst, but it nothing more than a throbbing head ache.
Yes, I am the wine glass on the table, barely in control of my contents. The pressure of the sound threatens my very being, my existence, the feigned control I have of myself. What happens if I break? If I shatter and am destroyed, laid waste by the appeal of just letting go, not fighting the pain and the issues I am tangled up in? If I break- then I sink into an unhealthy oblivion.
Suddenly, at my moment of most intense apprehension, the noise is silenced.
I am turned over, and everything spills out. I am emptied.

"When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory."

"He is jealous for me. He loves like a hurricane and I am tree, bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy. When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory, and I realize just how beautiful you are, and how great your affections are for me. And oh how He loves us. Oh how He loves us so. How He loves us all. We are his portion and he is our prize, drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes, if grace is an ocean, we are all sinking. And heaven meets earth in an unforseen kiss, and my heart turns violently inside of my chest, I don't have time to maintain these regrets, when I think about the way he loves me."

I struggle to lose myself in Him. When my parents fail, He is my ultimate Father. When I don't have someone to love me and fill the aching void, I throw myself at His feet. When the pain threatens to overwhelm and the pressure of life closes in on me, I allow myself to sink into His overwhelming grace. When despair and confusion muddle my thoughts, and I can barely make it through the day without getting lost in thoughts about my family, I cry out to Him. He is the one sure thing. The One who loves when no one else does. He is the one who hung on a tree to pay for the sins I commit against Him and my loved ones every day. He is the One. He is everything. I must find my identity in Him. Not in my failing family. Not in my friends. Not in my goals. In Him and only ever Him. When all else fades and breaks and lets me down, He is faithful. Always, ever faithful.