Due to other commitments which will take me off-grid, it will be a while before I post again, so I shall leave you with this to ponder over in the meantime.
My Old Friend
I have absolutely no idea what brought her to mind; but there she was, dancing around my head and pirouetting through my thoughts. An ethereal, yet welcome ballerina rousing memories, twirling from within.
Time and tide have a way of taking life from you; days become weeks, become months, even years. The seasons pass in a blur. You think you are living, leading your life, to find only you are simply being washed along by that which is all about.
Glancing behind, you see fondness and friendships stranded on the riverbanks of forlorn fortitude. The past, flowing waters; impossible longings washed to the far horizons of yesterday. Crashing over waterfalls of missed opportunity into the misty ravines of reminiscence.
Such is life.
Such is my life.
My mind focused solely on the next few minutes, the next few hours, with little true intentions beyond the knife edge of existence on which I balance, naked of spirit and defunct of soul. Yet here she is, my danseuse, creating an adagio of unsolicited thoughts to tumble free from the dusty recesses of my mind.
My friend, revisiting, calling unannounced from within my own heart. Knocking upon the shutters of neglect, which have been closed for too long.
Never lovers, yet a closeness of spirit, of understanding, an equilibrium of shared nature beyond the mere physical.
Too long have words not passed between us; too long my eyes have not feasted upon her smile. I scold myself for letting slip a closeness which should be cherished, nurtured and cared for.
Today, now, I shall call her name. I shall whisper loudly into her ear my love, my fondness of her being, my dearest affection. No more shall I let time, or distance, or concerns drive wide a divide or force apart our bond.
For she is my friend.
My old friend.
© Paul White 2015
Read more of my short stories at A Little More Fiction.