Ever look back and wonder: where is he/she? why'd we stop talking? when did everything change?
school ends, we move on.
new job, you keep in touch for 3 months, move on.
move in with other roommates, move on.
..."i should call [him/her] back, but gonna finish what i'm doing first"...
and move on.
more often than not, those calls are never made. not because i don't care, but because my living in the now offers too many distractions. suddenly, the now is past, and the shame of not having called sooner delays my better judgment to call in the future.
...it's not like you'll remember me anyways.
and then i get a note. a call. a freak bumping into someone out of nowhere who just so happens to know my past someone from somewhere.
and they're sick. or dying. or already gone.
this week i was hit with a call. and my response was somewhat disabled. i didn't fill it to my full ability... but i did respond. and with the response comes my lament. and with my lament comes my resolution, full of hope. no more excuses. no more fear.
tommy said to me recently: "an old lover once told me that i don't wear modesty well". he is the most outlandish, crazy, inspired character who taught me how to use words. and steal a bike... i'd forgotten about the words. i offered them back to him, and he accepted them with grace, and inspiration.
i brought light to a friend in the dark. time for me to light my own candles now.
no more excuses. no more fear.
only some good 'ol fashioned modesty.
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