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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...

Tuesday

Eat Drink Man Woman (borrowed)


I came home, all ready to ignore what I'd written during a time when I should've been giving my undivided attention to professional responsibilities. Right now, I should be getting ready for bed, but I found a gift in my mailbox from a person I still call (feel as) friend, in the same day that I was compelled to write him a letter AND told another friend that I'm sure he's watching silently somewhere. Pointing at YOU--YES, yet another confirmation of the way I know you.

So...hoping you don't run into a foxhole, here's to you, Friend.

Dear "He",

I miss you. There, I said it. It's not that I haven't said it before to your open ear and silent mouth. It's that I'm amazed by it. I've shed people before, accepted it as a seasonal part of life. It rarely comes as a surprise, but if it does, the breadcrumbs can be followed back to the very place where things fell apart. With you, either the ants have eaten the trail, or there never was an exact time and place. I can't even seem to find the wisps of smoke indicating your disappearance.

...Or maybe I've fooled myself into believing that. In truth, I think it happened somewhere around, "WOW, I love you...!!" and the quiet contemplation in secret and across miles whether "you" are "my" truth right now? I never shared it with you and you never directly said it to me, both of us playing it safe. I was fresh off a thing, and you were fresh off a thing, and don't forget that other thing... And we both felt comfortable simply getting to know someone without the pressures of chasing tail or feeling like prey.

Maybe if we had really addressed these sneaky A-ha moments where we couldn't figure out how we instinctively KNOW each other... Our few occasions in each other's presence evidenced a GREAT connection; greatly unexpected and not easily explained. Still. I will speak for me. I was afraid. You were perfection wrapped in friendship. All I could think about was the possibility of losing another good friend due to a misstep in assuming we could handle taking more from each other and giving more to each other. I didn't want to risk being able to call you and throw up all that took place in my day as well as throw up from the laughter you always wrench from me.

It seems I've lost you anyway. At least for now. You've left me question-full and answer-less. But it's not the first time you've attempted an exit. And while you've severed my vocal cords in your world, you're still listening via satellite. It gives me hope. I know my book is in good hands. I suspect that one day those hands will return it to me in person.

Despite your reasons, know that I love you anyway, and not like my daddy. As a matter of fact, "nowhere near any scenario like that." In your own time. My cup runneth over with forgiveness. Another story I've set aside to tell you over popcorn when you raise the shades again.

Love,

"She"

********************

You know you's a SUCKA for makin me talk to you here. When I see you, I'ma punch you in ya Man Junk!!

1 comment:

  1. dayum!!! wif ur (& his) wud u mynd terribli ifn eye plagiarized. theres a couple uv hers out there that eye might cud du well. wif em bein able ta hear it frum me. or that cud jes be me egoism. as always. thank u fa sharin. fa bein a shinin example. fortunateli mah man junk is safe.

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