Relative Habits: A Dark Memoir

From another novel in progress, Relative Habits: A Dark Memoir, here is the Prologue for your reading pleasure (I hope!).

Sometimes losing something of grave importance at an early age gives one the ability to hear, see and feel things that would otherwise go unnoticed. The loss of an object or a person becomes the gain of something else, perhaps in the manifestation of a special ability. Sometimes, it is physical and creative, as in the musician, who although deaf, composes beautiful sonatas and concertos; other times, it is the acute sense of smell given a blind person who has never seen a rose, but still recognizes it as such upon smelling its scent in the air.

For some, a few, it is an intuition or a feeling. It is the knowledge that something has occurred or someone has arrived, before its respective occurrence or arrival. The feeling of being in a place one has never seen, yet cannot help but remember it in vivid detail. It is knowing how people feel before they open their mouths to speak to express the emotion that is binding their life at that very moment. It is understanding the human condition with such insight that sentiment surpasses empathy and the path of one life and another become so commingled, that one forgets where his responsibility to himself and to the other began. It is knowing more, feeling more and always searching for the truth in relationships, people and life. It is measuring every detail, regardless of how minute, in every action performed and in every word uttered. Having this intuition can be a Godsend, yet it can be consuming because one ultimately lives preoccupied with everything surrounding him. The brain is constantly at battle with the heart and the heart rarely wins. One eventually only finds happiness when doing for someone else. Today’s word of choice is codependency, but to some this willingness to embrace benevolence as sport is a gift. It is the desire to commit acts of goodness simply for the act of doing good.

This gift is known as a relative habit and it was something the four of us collaboratively shared during our time together. Each of us was uniquely gifted with a talent that would ultimately allow us to reach the inevitable destination that was to conclude our first-ever, challenging journey.

Despite the events depicted on these pages, this is not a tale of horror, happiness or despair, it is unmercifully real and primal. Before you continue to read, you must suspend all notions that reality only enjoys one definition and you must believe that as humans we can communicate in ways that do not involve patterns of speech, sight or movement. You must accept that souls can converse in languages we are too primitive to learn and with words we are spiritually too young to utter. Souls make connections where humans cannot find threads of commonality, lending credence to the cliché that opposites attract. And as very distinct opposites our draw toward one another was intensely fierce and engaged with calming subtlety all at once. It was our greatest weapon and one that would prove necessary in the end.

When all of this began, we were innocents seeking the answer to one question. At its outcome, we were satisfied that we had reached the only conclusion there was to reach, again an inevitable destination was waiting for us at the landing. Sadly, the price for the validation of our efforts would result in the group of four becoming three, as we would have to accept the loss of one of our own in the course of these events. But we ended up stronger and closer, which doesn’t explain why we had to get away from one another and begin a host of new crossings in our paths through life. I will try to tell you this story and I hope you understand if I omit details which are much too painful to relive, even if only through the written words on these pages.

I can vouch for the validity of this tale, omitted details and all, because along with a few others, I was there.


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