Did you change or did I? When did you become this thing? This keepsake? This memento that only clutters my life but which I cannot yet bare to throw away?
It's hard to talk to you, hard to read your words - just- no easy way to express how I don't care...
About your kids or your house, about your spirituality or your job; about how happy you are now that you're finally settling into life. Life isn't a puzzle. There are no hard edges to find, no border that makes the picture easier to put together. Or at least, there doesn't have to be. That jigsaw you've preserved under heavy glass, none of it is you.
Once you were all about how the wave wins in the end. Grinding bodies back into the ocean, back to where we come from.
I miss the you that was metaphor. High pain threshold. Skinned knees. Goddamn you were something special when you were a failure.
Spectacular. Crushing. Always reaching. Overreaching. Wet, aching, bruised, sharp.
And I am sure that there is a lesson here. I am sure that if this were something we could talk about you would say, "Well, people change." Okay. But, change into what?
And what ever happened to just becoming more and more who we are, anyway?
When did you stop being everything and when did you become this thing that only reminds me of how once you were everything?
When you were young you were so beautiful. What happened?
Did you change or did I?