Few

I need new eyes, not to see but catch a clearer sight of what my original eyes were supposed to reveal. Too many times I lose count: how long has this been? Six months? Thirteen months? Or nineteen months actually?

The dashboard reports observations that were hardly positive. He measured more agony than relief; more sorrow than joy; more tears than a real laugh; more broken pieces to mend than a time to celebrate. The days grew from dark to desperate, and accompanied empty, hollow rest. 

It proved no difficulty to tell me to be strong. Go most practical even, of watching what I put myself in contact with. If only they knew, I wished completely with my whole being that it were this simple. But only one of us could be the bigger person, so I graciously put on the quiet hat and went my way. With my wounds that once again rose to sight, and sometimes, with some of the tears that had been my comforter. 

The only reason this wait has to go on lies in this unsolved mystery. All that needs to be tried has been done, rigorously and in excess. Could I have missed something? What had gone so wrong that it can't be fixed, and I have been made to suffer? But the many letters I had written in my poorest state of heart proved that there is another place where the fix is happening. Somewhere that I had not been looking at, which I presently don't quite see yet. Hence my plea, give me eyes.

Whether the mystery is existent I have grown weary to know. The surface already reveals a plain reason to accept. Tarry a while longer, because they are not done yet. They were sent to strip me clean. This journey became too heavy and I had to lose many things to go on. Questions, resolve, strife, resistance, and... did I lose doubt as well? Alas, I am still on my way. There is no destination, only a narrow and solitary path. I am not done with losing them; they have to lose their way, so that I don't. 

You've left me with few words. Let me travel light for the rest of this journey.