sleeping in my boots.

“How did it get so late so soon? Its night before it’s afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”

-Dr. Seuss

Today’s thoughts courtesy of a momentary brush with a person who used to be my friend. An ex-friend, if you will.

A relationship is a funny thing. I was listening to a girl describe another friendship between two girls she knows as the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen: they will do anything for each other. Absolutely anything. They have this love for each other and for God and it’s so perfect how it is right now.

But things never last, as much as you wish they would. It’s one of the few things I’ve learned from moving around, I think.

[looking back]

So what happens when two people find that they no longer match each other? Well, it will end. For better or worse, it ends. It’s odd though, when you see someone who used to be the center of your world. How do two people become strangers again? Familiar faces that I’ve studied for hours on end, that I’ve laughed with, that I’ve loved: they belong to strangers now. I look up and look back down. There’s an obligatory smile, yes. But what happened to the future we had imagined? What about all the things we were going to do together? It’s the past now.

When did the future become the past?

[looking forward]

It’s similarly curious how strangers become close. A greeting can turn into a conversation which gives way to familiarity, leading to hours spent together, experiences had, and memories stored. This is how the future becomes the past: “we’ll collect moments one by one”–“Mushaboom” by Feist. Personally I prefer the latter, as I’m sure most people would. It’s amazing how one’s barriers are slowly broken down, one brick at a time, until you are bearing the entirety of yourself for someone else to hold. I guess you can only hope that they’ll handle your heart as carefully as you would yourself.

I said I was going through a dry spell. I still am. I’m feeling a lot of things right now. Too many to define into one thing. Kind of like when you take lots of different colors of chalk and mix them together until they’re gray. There you go. I hope I wake up soon.


One response to “sleeping in my boots.

  1. I wish I could have articulated this thought as eloquently as you just did. I have tried several times before. But I would like to go farther: What happens when the looking forward becomes the looking back as the Seuss quote implies? On to the next one and the next, and the next until we settle? That’s a pessimistic view, but I don’t think anyone likes being lonely. No one likes being old news.

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