You tell me that you don’t ever want to lose touch with me again and in return I tell you that I need you in my life. I can’t be who I need to be without you, so I’m not going anywhere. Only the person you don’t want to lose touch with, I’m not sure I’m that person any more. If I’m not, then surely my promise isn’t broken. My promises to you, the only ones that are only ever at risk.
In those quiet moments, in the spaces between the breaths, that’s when you come to find me; that’s where I am always waiting for you. When you no longer hear the words you need, you listen for my voice. When you cannot see your worth, I show you what I see through my eyes. When your life is not what you want it to be, I offer you mine. Unsure of what any of it means any longer.
Your happiness at the expense of my own. That was never the plan. Your presence completed me. Balance restored. Only you want something else, determined to turn my world every which way – and you always did. Everything I never knew I wanted, always you. When there’s no one else for you, you come to me – your last resort or your eternal solace? What am I to you? ‘The heart does things for reasons that reason cannot understand.’
…what are you to me?
12yrs ago a guy met a girl, possibly over a canteen table, maybe in a college hallway. I’m not sure. I remember the beginning and I remember the moments in between. There have been many, and some of them may have been difficult, but they stayed the course. Tomorrow we get on a plane to fly 13,000 miles because that guy and that girl have decided to get married, and we, as their friends, have been asked to share the moment. I can’t believe it’s been 12yrs. Where did it all go?
I’m going through my travel routines. Luggage is packed. Just the handcarry to sort now. Several trips have taught me to whittle it down to the essentials, but somehow I still manage to overpack. Backing up the PC, life has taught me this to be a wise move, not just travel. Memory cards wiped. Wallet. I should sort out my wallet. Sunglasses. Liquids in a resealable clear bag. Gadgets set to charge before I pack away the multitude of chargers in the morning. I may be running behind but I have the routine down now.
It still doesn’t actually feel as though I’m leaving even if I will hopefully be sat on a plane in 10hrs. I’m not looking forward to this flight. The US is easy. Direct flights under 10hrs. Nothing compared to the gauntlet before me. Still, if I could do it for Cambodia then I can do it to go home. Home. It’s more unfamiliar than any place I choose to travel to now, but it’s where my roots lie. This is where the people that I am made up of came from, even if the people who have made me who I am are scattered around the world.
Vacations stopped feeling like the getaway they were supposed to a long time ago. My phone providing instant access whenever someone wants to reach me. The Crackberry no doubt making that even more possible. Wi-fi connections and the netbook assisting further. The scenery changes but I keep those close to me nearby. They’re my (in)sanity after all. I’m sure there will be moments though, when the beeping of one device or other no longer sounds, and I’m home again.
So many of us headed to the same place. Still missing some, but knowing they’ll be in our hearts. Moving on and getting married. Moving out and buying homes. Moving away and making new lives. We’re growing up. When did that happen? Leaving on a jetplane, am I ever the same when I come back again?