Left Hanging
Well, I did it. Put myself out there, again.. put my heart on the line. Made an exception to the rule and let myself be honest and take a risk for a moment Actually put a stamp on it and let the mailman carry it away. And for all that, his response was . . .
silence. (crickets)
so my heart screams to the universe: WHY?? Why did you whisper his name to me across all these years? Why did you make me remember that I once loved and had a friend and after a lifetime apart he's now as close as one click on Facebook... only to find out that he now won't answer me??
I sit in front of this damnable computer, with tears and snot streaming down my face, feeling naked, vulnerable; wishing I could just put this feeling back into its box and go back to concentrating on my work; wishing my brain had an off switch; cursing all the water that has flowed under the bridge; grateful I finally got my office set up enough that at least I have a space to be alone.
I'm annoyed to realize that I'm sitting here blubbering over a friendship which ended a quarter century ago. Didn't his (now ex) wife realize that I was no threat to her marriage? Unless, of course, watching my journey were to make him realize that it should be his journey, too? I'm still not sure that's the case. How can you tell when dealing with someone that doesn't self-identify? How much can you infer, when listening to the sound of his silence?
I had dared hope for a minute that he would welcome me with open arms. That would have made him unique.
I guess I was wrong.
silence. (crickets)
so my heart screams to the universe: WHY?? Why did you whisper his name to me across all these years? Why did you make me remember that I once loved and had a friend and after a lifetime apart he's now as close as one click on Facebook... only to find out that he now won't answer me??
I sit in front of this damnable computer, with tears and snot streaming down my face, feeling naked, vulnerable; wishing I could just put this feeling back into its box and go back to concentrating on my work; wishing my brain had an off switch; cursing all the water that has flowed under the bridge; grateful I finally got my office set up enough that at least I have a space to be alone.
I'm annoyed to realize that I'm sitting here blubbering over a friendship which ended a quarter century ago. Didn't his (now ex) wife realize that I was no threat to her marriage? Unless, of course, watching my journey were to make him realize that it should be his journey, too? I'm still not sure that's the case. How can you tell when dealing with someone that doesn't self-identify? How much can you infer, when listening to the sound of his silence?
I had dared hope for a minute that he would welcome me with open arms. That would have made him unique.
I guess I was wrong.