It’s hard to not make even world events about ME.
I have been struck by the unceasing desire to go back to the last day We spoke with only Love, re-do so many things between us from that moment onward. Yet, if I start down that slippery slope I begin to wonder about all the little moments before that I could have. Or when I should have. But, I don’t think about what I would have. Those seem irrelevant.
But, if I could only see your face one more time. If I could only hold your hand one more time. If I could stop and listen to what you were really trying to tell me one more time.
This year I touted as my year of second chances. Bill Clinton famously is alleged to have, among his many deeds, said in response to the question “How many second chances does a person need?” As many as it takes to get it right. Painfully, we have no more second chances. This is your choice. It seems in the space of 39 minutes of phone calls, many texts and one really bad video chat we missed each other. I call it misunderstanding. You called it being attacked. I call it opportunity. You used it as an out. I heard us both escalating and going down a messy road of bad habits. You wrote me off as emotionally violent. I see your point of view. I know you only see yours. Otherwise I’d not be writing this post. We are living out some soap opera drama, some sweeping melodramatic miniseries, a telenovela playing in your head.
Then, I think about the date. I can’t help but stop and wonder what the world was like on September 10, 2001. I head down that slippery slope of what we could have. What we should have. I wonder about all the hands that can’t be held. The faces that can’t be seen.
This makes your departure all the more cruel when I know you are out there and We have a choice where so many do not.
I wonder if we will ever learn what it means to be in Peace. I wonder if you and me, WE, can ever find our way back to Love.