Something of a regularly recurring thing, this space and moment each year when, for “no apparent reason”, I return to thinking of the short list of people from whom I’ve parted poorly (be it their fault or mine or, as is more usual, a combination of both).
Some of these names go back decades and some, only a year or two. I still am not certain why I choose to remember them at all except that (obviously) I still miss them and I still feel/think/believe that whatever it was that happened, it wasn’t impossible to reconcile except that we said it was… and never tried.
Interestingly, it doesn’t feel the same as it used to; it used to hurt. As in really, really upset and hurt. Now, there’s only the very lightest touch of moisture in the eyes. But the weight and sense of missing hasn’t changed at all.
I do not look back as often as I used to and, I suppose, most people don’t do it at all; or so it seems. I used to ping them, just to let them know I’m still here and still miss them and hope they are well, but the silence tends to evidence both that they’re not looking back and I was just being an idiot to think otherwise, so I don’t do that anymore. It’s kind of happy/sad, if that makes sense; part of me is genuinely happy to assume/think this isn’t what they know or feel and part of me is sad for the very same reason. I’m not sure if that makes sense or not, but that’s how I experience it.
A short note in a solemn moment; raised eyes looking to Polaris for a time, sending good thoughts and hope of happiness, then, here, to blather about it and mark the path. Not much more, really. I reckon that’s as it should be.
Perhaps foolishly
No matter how far away
Still I hold you close