Well, here we are. So much
has happened. It’s hard to
believe. But we got here.
We’ve lived this. And we
got through it all together.
Or that was by all means
the hope. And isn’t it dope,
all the drama, our various
and individual bouts with
tragedy, these being, of
course, the darkest of times,
but also those moments during
which we found ourselves filled
with joy, the times we’d either
curl over, nearly onto the floor,
with laughter, gasp chokingly in
a sudden state of disbelief, of
shock, our fists hurling with
rage or with disgust or,
intermingling with all of
these various and momentary
feelings, the intermittent sensation
of teardrops, rolling either singly
down our otherwise dry and
determined faces or, much
less often, quite rarely, but
more potent than any of the
rest of what we’d been through,
the times when our bodies would
be hit as if head-on with uncontrol
lable and gut-wrenching sobs, the
rivulets soaking our chins and our
lips and our cheeks nearly into
erasure, our lives nearly drained
or drowned? But, afterwards, that
inevitable wave of relief from the rush
and from the exhaustion of everything
that had come before it. And after
that, there’d be a hush that might last
days, or even weeks, as we’d grieve,
reflect upon what had just happened,
how we got to this point. And, slowly,
the energy would build and we’d pick
ourselves up, one by one, each of
us focusing more strongly than ever
upon our journey, our minds detailing
the litany of our trajectory, and on
how best we might get to what
happens next. And toward that,
we’d either plan strategically, with
the most ideal goals in mind, or,
just as determinedly, and with
concentrated and elongated
inhalations and exhalations,
how we might simply be
present, be alert to this
very moment, and how each
of them might enlighten us,
show us how best to mend,
how we’ve grown, where
best to move, and toward
which horizon we are most
compelled. Our most
profound hope, that primal
thing with which we are left,
is that it is there that we will
see each other again. And we
say this to each other: “See
you there next time.” Yes.
And, fingers crossed, soon.
ourselves up, one by one, each of
us focusing more strongly than ever
upon our journey, our minds detailing
the litany of our trajectory, and on
how best we might get to what
happens next. And toward that,
we’d either plan strategically, with
the most ideal goals in mind, or,
just as determinedly, and with
concentrated and elongated
inhalations and exhalations,
how we might simply be
present, be alert to this
very moment, and how each
of them might enlighten us,
show us how best to mend,
how we’ve grown, where
best to move, and toward
which horizon we are most
compelled. Our most
profound hope, that primal
thing with which we are left,
is that it is there that we will
see each other again. And we
say this to each other: “See
you there next time.” Yes.
And, fingers crossed, soon.
