Hello, Old Friend

 I've missed you.

I've watched you. While you made frantic friends with coworkers, and increased your alcohol tolerance.

I've watched you. While you flirted. While you waited for him to call.

For them to text.

For your heart to forget them all.

I've witnessed you in the morning, sluggishly scouring social media for the inspiration to get out of bed,

and rarely finding it.

Staring up at the ceiling, sometimes I've felt you nearer to me. As thoughts coalesced into nothingness, and time crawled, meaningless, and the shadows grew.

I've kept you upright as the world spun, intoxicatingly, on your way up the stairs to your apartment at 3am.

I've been waiting for you.

The other day, I broke through as you were driving on the freeway. The sunset aided and abetted me, and a yearning began deep inside

for a keyboard.

A blank document.

A platform.

I've watched you search the eyes of those outside of you for a similar yearning.

Connection.

Wondering if it was safe to be vulnerable.

Is it ever safe?

And then I watched as you slammed up your walls, and hid yourself behind clouds of smoke

and glasses of wine.

Patiently, I have been here.

A witness.

Waiting for you to miss me as much as I've missed you.

To see how much I still admire your courage,

your compassion,

and your effort to survive.

Dear Friend,

I've watched as you fell into loneliness, embraced silence, and found solace on the mat.

And when your wrist gave out, I watched you berate yourself for giving that up.

And when the critics of your mind and outside of you rabbled and rumbled, I have been here.

And when that crushing abandonment-feeling threatened,

I caressed you, and softly lead you into presence.

And when you decided to give up on love,

you saw me.

We smiled at each other, and began to laugh.

How can we give up on that which feeds me?

Gives me life?

Purpose?

Belonging?

In love, I am.

With you.

Us.

Me.

We.

All is one.