Worry

I sit here and I worry.

Have I erred? Have I committed such sins great and terrible upon innocent ones? Or is such the better of the possibilities? Mayhap if it is not about me at all, what if it concernes someone else? Yea, though my thoughts do run wild what if some very crafty fellow hath gotten the better of me? I peer into the side of my window, but no light emanateth, no happiness runneth towards it, no signs of life or any matter, motionless it doth lie, as I sit, and I wait, and I worry.

For now she should have come hours ago.

Nay, criticise me not, I know to presume, 'tis the truest of human nature, I do it bold so, yet can I be attacked for it? Hear me, I discourse only my own faults. Cuiusvis hominis est errare, nullius nisi insipientis in errore perseverare. Have I played the fool? What impunity have I so wrought on the conscience of men such so that I am condemned as this? Our language flows fickle, words taken for granted can take on meanings anew whenever least convenient for the speaker, words that were spoken the the kindest jocundity, words sweet and pure, that carried with them not one dram of ill intent, yea, they doth turn sour in the air, and pollute the minds and opinions of humans who hear them. But the time has passed. The stream of time cannot be reversed by mortal men. I can only wait, and pray.

My fears become compounded as the time passes. To presume I was at fault now seems a trifling matter, not worthy of such depiction, not deserving the letters with which they are spelt. Nay, can a stranger be at the heart of the matter? Surely her heart is not as such a malleable matter, surely she must put up some resistance to this affront, surely my efforts cannot all be for naught. A man, bold and swift, built Herculean, silver of tongue, smooth of style, irradiating, emanating machismo, doth come and talk false words to her ear, doth promise matters impossible, and he doth run with her, run to a house of wickedness, and into my hell. What if she is gone from me? What if she never returns? I cannot know.

For now there is only the lonely void.