A shared name, but more than that shared. That futile search hoping what you know not to be true, that there could possibly be someone else. Hurting to see you there, but that smile still the most yearned for sight. That need to stay by your side, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how often you were told it was madness to remain, no matter that you knew there was no denying their fate did not lie with you.
Their request that they stay, yours only that they show up. Wishes granted to you both, but with a price. They can no longer remain who you believed them to be. Envious that at least they had a certainty of who their person was, all you had was who you imagined them to be, who their actions made you believe them to be. Where they were never wrong, you always were. Their loss far greater, to that yours could never compare.
Never belonging to you, but you always tied to them. Unable to ever explain it, those most likely to be able to understand it, never needing reason: this is simply how it was. No more. Time to step aside, and in doing so prove you loved them most. You loved enough to walk away; to give them what they thought would make them happy. That was all you ever wanted.
Take one step. One foot in front of the other. Soon you’ll be far enough to not hear their heartbeat and they’ll be too far behind to not hear yours break. Let it begin now. One foot in front of the other. Their hold loose now, unaware that you’re able to make good your escape. One foot in front of the other. Go.
It’s the last weekend of the summer, officially – at least on this side of the ocean, and I chose to spend it with my very best. Even those that are too many miles away, their presence is felt in the laughter. That smile that is always found in the company of those who have chosen to keep me, and I am so very thankful that they have.
This is perhaps the last time, for some time, that we’ll all even occupy the same geographical space; each of us off on our own individual adventures. Some travelling across the ocean in search of the summer that often eluded us. Some taking great lengths to share a meal with a friend because they don’t know when the next time will be possible. Some taking that more frightening journey into the next stage of their life. Some taking decisive steps towards a future we’ve always hoped for them. Others still, taking that trip home.
It’s possible that even if we were physically in the same space we may not all have been able to come together. Our schedule’s often meaning that at least one of us isn’t present. Their absence always forgiven, their presence always missed. They make the act of breathing easier, and the laughter so hard it hurts. A reunion when we all eventually return already plan. A single word all that was needed to plant the seed to a new adventure.
It is at this time I choose to start again. As we all get ready to set out on our respective adventures I find myself wanting to revisit that part of me that I have missed and whose return I have hoped for: my words. Too long feared that they were irrevocably lost, that it had become too hard to be that person who felt those feelings that made the words possible. Still sometimes too hard to feel those things, but with new knowledge I can allow the words to return.
I feel myself hungry for them now. My fingers itching when they stay away from the words too long, whether it’s in the writing or the way they move across a page feeling the words beneath them before they are read. Stories waiting to be told, experiences that require commitment to something more constant than my own memory, my thoughts needing to be remembered.
It’s just over six years since I first started to take the chronicling of this life seriously. That single decision to start making a record has lead to my path into unexpected territory. Friendships forged between words, often unspoken yet somehow understood. Those choosing to read them coming to learn more about me than those I had shared a lifetime with. My thoughts laid bare, finally me. Those that stayed coming to be the people I now find completely necessary. My bestest.
Here on this blank canvas I will find the words again. It is more than time. Summer still has some time to linger, and I hope it does. Fall is most definitely making its return.
I’ve only just begun.