Re-Making Friends

Now I am trying to build bridges. After a while, even ego tires; and wounded pride; and best friends are too much a part of you, to turn away from, in anger or hurt or frustrated expectations. The gap they leave never fills up. Like those old cotton t-shirts, wear-softened into secondskin-ness and like a house we have lived in forever. You miss the comfort of the familiar, you miss the utter ease of communication, where what you 'meant', is always known or understood. The ease of knowing and being known, where someone intuitively knows what you mean and what ur saying because its sounding so gdm lyrical right now. Ur eccentricities, ur charades, ur games, ur fears and nightmares and golden dreams. And you miss the cantakeuforgranted confidence in the knowing of where you stand, of knowing someone cares, of knowing someone's there. In the last few years of trying to get to know blood, i forgot how thick water's always been. Slowly, I am coming back to life.

Is it too late? Or does the welcome really never end? Am I really looking for you, or traces of the me I used to be? Like a waif-soul, suddenly unanchored from body and earth, floating rootlessly around the spirit world, unable to adjust, finally, the cessation of being, comes back to haunt, empty rooms, broken walls, thrown away clothes, looking everywhere for the life it was. bad analogy.

Anyway, so you let me down. Or so I thought. I wanted to let it go, but how could I forget how I had thought you'd meant it, when you'd said you'd always be there, through thick and thin. so where were you, when they were branding my skin, when my soul was burning, and the smoke making me blind, forever; where were you, when I was wishing I was dead. and making the ghosts that would haunt me.

You'd said that you loved me and I always believed you, but the thing is, I never knew what it meant. Maybe I thought it meant too much. Maybe I always wanted too much.

So now we're making conversation. Stilted like Strangers. Atleast, we're talking again. Yet, like sunlight through a crumbling wall, in whose very foundations r the weakness or unnaturalness (?), once in a while 'something' shines through. Or maybe thats just my imagination. You always said it was fantastic :)

One way or another, I still love you; whatever (or everything) that that might mean. And I always will. Like I'll always be me. Unpredictable, Arrogant, Shy, Silly, Profound, Inane, Lauging crying sulking dissapearing and coming back to life. Lukewarm, but growing, there's a spreading smile

Originally Posted at Prerona.