Nobody's Musings

My Everything Jar

My Everything Jar is my soulmate.  She means everything to me. Screwed tight and propped up against the wall neatly. Sometimes, I open the lid and she looks even more charming while collecting. Stars, sunlight and sea breeze? Yeah, that sort of stuff. Even fireflies buzz around inside, a sort of pitter patter when they bounce off the surface of the jar. True to her name. The Everything Jar has everything in it. She even speaks, chattering away about us, the day that has gone by. I feel safe when I know she is there, making her presence felt.

She decided to go very silent one day. It happened after I had forgotten to screw back the lid. By the time I did it, she had let in dirt, smoke and dead leaves. The jar looked sooty from the rotten insiders, but there was no way of disposal. They had made a home for themselves in her, and it didn't help that my jar had gone very quiet, as though in silence, she was blaming me for what had happened to her. The dirt was really clever, not the usual kind, Why, you may ask. Well, they are really good at camouflaging and turning invisible when I peer inside of my jar. Nose pressed up against the glass, I spent hours staring, but they went missing. But I know they were there, because my jar was turning more pale and ashen by the day. Even after I opened her completely to clean. When nobody's looking, the uninvited guests turn up, dancing to their own tunes, corrupting my jar and me. Tunes I hear so clearly. The pain of their feet against the jar is excruciating, yet she doesn't crack. She stood steady, a rock standing its ground against the crashing of waves on the shore.

Many times, she, my jar, wanted to leave. It was supposed to be easy. All I had to do was place her on a windowsill and let nature take its course. After all, my jar is fond of nature, it won't be painful. It's impossible. We both love each other too much to let go. I have a lingering doubt about her leaving. It's not her, but the dirt that is making her say those things. Those scheming, lying scandalizers have ruined her.

Our conversations have turned wordless. I nod at my jar and she smiles back weakly, if at all. Enough it is for both of us to know the other is there. I made up my mind to speak to her.

Midnight was the best time to talk. Pulling her close, I hug her and unscrew the lid. The company of the dark, starlit sky eased her into talking.

"Did you forget about me? How could you let anyone into me? Between us?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I really shouldn't have thought you would be able to withstand everything."

"Let me go. You don't need me."

"No, I can't. I won't know myself if I am not with you. Please stay."

"I guess I'll have to leave by myself then, without a farewell."

"I'm coming with you. We need each other, to chase down streams, to smell the tulips and daisies. To be you. I love you too much, and I will make everything right between us again. You'll see."

Pressing my forehead tightly into hers, tears stained my cheek and hers, blinding my vision to her pain. I made a promise. To never let anything break our trust and our bond. It was too much to lose. 

My jar never left and neither did I. We started afresh, collecting in small steps. She even fought with me with those morons, chasing them out. We hug each other tightly, thankful the other never left. Losing her meant losing me.

She is now filled again. With the sounds of mirth of stars giggling and a sliver of moonlight that shone through so brightly.  And I feel it. No one can see her, for my jar hides very well. When we talk, the silence is so loud, deafening, but comforting. I found solace in her because she was always open for me. A distant piano plays in my head, her home. In my reflection, when I stare at myself, tears threatening to spill ever so often, I see her dancing whimsically to the slow lull of the piano. In a world of her own, she turns and spins, tireless and carefree. And I join her, my Everything Jar.

In our own world of magic.