Thursday, 29 September 2011


Kanye sings – memories made in the coldest winter. Have some of those, but it was a rather mild winter. How about memories made under a ceiling fan? Those on a brown rug, sitting on the floor? Some in a hard chair, in class, passing notes? some at a party, gossiping? No where? Some place? Memories are so close, the person even closer, the era a thousand miles away.
Texts. Smiles. Conversations. Stories. Jokes. Notes. Arguments. Clothes. Movies. Disagreements. Walks. Anger. Hugs. Runs. Rides. Pictures. Outings. Meals. People. Gossip. TV. Laughter .
A very good friend.
That saying about not knowing what you have until it’s gone, not here. Knowing the value of a friend is important. I just never realized how much space was occupied. Space which I have no interest in filling. Space which cannot be filled. A vital jigsaw piece, though a single part of a set, links to the others and leaves the whole puzzle rather incomplete.
Previously there was so much to say. Silence was just a break. Now a break from the silence takes such superhuman effort, so only a word or two make it. ‘hi’, and the silence envelopes again.
The words I wish could make a difference now don’t matter. I’m left wondering why I won’t move on, seemingly unscathed as well? Wondering when my life got so empty that one person, though so remarkable, could create such a vacuum.
On lonely nights like this I fade.
Good bye my friend, will you ever love me again?

(wrote this about 2 or 3? years ago. was missing a friend very much. it was about 4am and everything was still and quiet but my thoughts)