Loss. the fact of no longer having something or of having less of something.
I remember when I lost a phone. I went through what many call the five stages of grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and finally, Acceptance.
You learn to handle it better than you did the first time, it doesn’t hurt as much because the pain becomes somewhat familiar.
The pain also finds you familiar, sweeping through your bones faster than it did the last time and along with it, realization.
Some say we feel the pain of loss because we are too attached. Too attached to our gadgets and to people.
Attachment is the reason the pain becomes physical. So some go through life resolutely unattached, while others have mastered that fine balance between feeling greatly and still being able to let go when the time comes.
Loss was strange to me — the way something intangible became real, manifesting into bitterness at the back of your throat, lead in the lining of your gut or a sword right through your heart.
But what was more strange was the association of this word to the human sexual experience.
“When did you lose your virginity?”
Feelings of bitterness, lead and swords don’t come rushing in, and if they did, even then, loss would not be the right word. Stolen maybe, but not loss.
It wasn’t something you could mistakenly drop as you walked down the street, neither was it something that could be picked off of you without noticing, and even stolen was an understatement to an attack on one’s body and spirit.
I remember the dance, it was ritual.
All of a sudden, you choose to act in a particular way, willing your body to send a particular message giving you the opportunity to make all those little choices one after the other until at last, the deed is done.
Sometimes I find the dance even more fascinating, like how the journey going somewhere is the real arrival.
The dance was there in novels, in movies, down to reality, to the minute detail in the way one decided to wear his or hair .
It wasn’t something that could be lost, for you still had it anyway.
To say it was innocence would be to suggest that somewhere deep down, we all agree that the act of sex defiles the body, mind and soul when it is the closest thing we can experience to heaven before coming back down to earth.
To say we have fallen would also suggest the fact that our own bodies were a temptation which is an excruciating way to live seeing as you will experience your body as long as you live.
I could say that maybe it was something that could be given, but you still had it anyway,
Then suddenly I wonder,
Why do we equate ourselves to property?
Property diminishes, degrades, corrupts.
The human body does too but then we are not our bodies, we merely experience life through our bodies, something so obvious in death.
Property can get lost, stolen, used.
You may ‘feel’ lost, stolen or used, but taking charge of your life also comes with the realisation that the power to be and to heal lies with you.