Loneliness

Everyone needs someone to hold - some fix that dream in their mind and relinquish  all else, others cannot help but turn to the nearest soft and welcoming arms.

The Anchor, Sinking

     Years ago, when my ship drifted lonesome and without direction, I yearned for you.  I yearned for something, anything really, that could ground me and give me rest from this ceaseless tossing about and being tossed upon the seas. There were many times when I was almost thrown overboard - when I almost lost my necklace (my only possession) and yet I did not die.
     At last, I found you.  You were an anchor and when I fastened you to my ship, things changed.  At first I was skeptical, thinking that you would be of no use.  I had been drifting for too long - too long.  But when I lowered you into the waves and set you in your place, my drifting stopped.  I was finally able to make sense of this sea that I was traveling upon, and I knew where I needed to go and how to get there.
     Peace found a home in my little ship.
     Then, unbeknownst to me, a storm gathered just beyond the horizon.  I ignored the distant thunderings, judging them to be some trick of the night sky, some gull's cry contorted by the wind - nothing else.  When the storm struck, I was caught unawares.  So long had I been at peace, I forgot how to look for storms.
     The waves crashed and the thunder broke over me.  Again and again the sea tried to wreck us and I feared for my little ship and the anchor I had begun to call my friend.  At last, the inevitable happened, and my ship's hull was broken upon the rocks.  We were smashed to pieces when you, my anchor, failed and our ship drifted to dangerous waters.
     Too late to save all else, and in a frenzy not to lose you, I detached you from the ship's broken pieces and held onto your chain.  I was torn from the ship and I held onto you, and you alone.  But with no ship left to stand on, you, my Anchor, betrayed me.  By holding onto your chain, you dragged me down, down, down to the shadowy depths, battering me against the rocks as we sunk.  When we came to rest with a sandy thud on the ocean's floor, I noticed a calm that had not been present in the storm that still raged above.  Here, grasping your chain, there was no wind or rain or jagged rocks.
     Here, the storm was in my lungs.  They began burning with need - need for air and breath and life.  Danger flashed inside my mind, and I gripped your chain and swam towards the surface with all my might. But I could not move you.  You would not budge, and so I could not move while holding on to you.
     Darkness edged into my mind and I looked to you, saltwater burning my eyes. Dark shapes loomed in the murky depths.  I knew that to stay would be the end of me, yet leaving you was too full of sorrow and regret.
     In a moment, I let go and swam upwards, towards the storm, and sorrow, and regret.
     Breaking the water's surface, I found a piece of my beloved ship and I clung to it, letting the storm's merciless power drag us far away from you.  Yet, I was too tired and empty to care much whether we weathered this storm or not.  A different kind of peace that looked more like defeat came over me.

     Finally, after time had passed and no longer seemed to hold meaning, I felt the warmth of the sun again.  The storm was over and I thought I could see land on the blue and hazy horizon, but it could have been my weary eyes fooling me with hope.
     I remembered you, my anchor, and how I left you behind.  There was nothing for me now, all I had left was my one possession.  With one hand, I clutched the albatross necklace that hung about my neck, and with the other I held on to the only remaining piece of my little ship.  It was all I had left to keep me afloat.

Smoothies and Old Love Letters

     I feel a bit like a smoothie.


     Once, I had many unique feelings, thoughts, and emotions.  There were ripe, juicy raspberries, sooth, rounded scoops of yogurt, and dollops of peanut butter. But now everything's broken. Sliced to bits until all I'm left with is a weak resemblance of what was there before.


     Metaphors are horrible ways to express yourself.  Why then, do I employ one here?  I think it is because it creates some comforting emotional distance.  But perhaps I'll try being more specific.




Some documented things you have said to me in the past:
You are never "just" anything.
I love being a part of your life.
Of course you're not boring.
I miss you.
I have told him so many times that I wish you were here so that I could just roll over to one of the fifty other beds and talk to you.
I never knew how much I needed a friend like you in my life.
Our friendship gives me so much courage and strength and peace.
I'm sorry.
Always yours. Always.
Of course I'm not mad.
I love you, and that won't change.






     Shortly after my uncle left my aunt, I wrote a journal entry making a list of all the things I loved about my MIA uncle.  Below the list, I wrote that I didn't want to forget, through time and bitterness, that there really were things about him that I loved.  (Truthfully, I was a bit less eloquent at the time, but it was long those lines.)  I don't want to forget our four-year friendship either.  I don't want to forget what you meant to me, and what I meant to you.  Before two roads diverged in a yellow wood and our paths grew apart so gradually that I didn't know what was happening until it was too late.


     I think the hardest part in this is having to wonder... how could I be so forgettable?


     Because when something earth-shattering and life changing happens to you, I find out after the fact that a half dozen of your friends were there with you.  And for those who couldn't be there with you? For those people, you updated them personally throughout the process.  Yet I have to wait with the crowds.  Unsure what's going on.  Praying from the sidelines, updating social media again and again, looking for the only update I can hope for.


     Forgotten.




     Well, my dear.
     I loved being a part of your life.
     You were never "just"anything to me - there were times when your words meant everything.
     You were not boring, we had so much fun together.
     There are still times when I wish I could roll over and talk to you the way we used to.
     You were the friend I never expected to need.
     I miss you too.
     Our alienation makes me feel fearful, powerless, and unsettled.
     I'm not sure why, but I'm sorry.  Really, honestly sorry if I failed you.  I'm sorry to abandon you to your path, regardless of whether or not that's what you want from me.
     Of course I'm not mad.  I'm frustrated, confused, and withdrawn perhaps.  Yet, for the sake of everything we were four years ago, there will always (always) be a piece of me that feels only hurt when it reflects on you and I.
     Because I love you, and that won't change.