The Morning After and the Morning After That

The air smells like rain, the sky, several shades of depressing roll silently by, taking no notice of my bathrobe clad presence. I sit on the edge of the the lightening sky absorbing the sound of awakening world. So begins another day.

I went to the home of friends last evening, it had been day filed with stress and disappointment and this looked like an opportunity to see some friends and work out some of the kinks. This it did, I enjoyed some stimulating conversation ate meat and drank alcohol, but then as with most things I do it had it’s down side. I proceeded, as the evening wore on, to create some melancholy as I pondered the fire.

My childhood was spent around a lot of campfires with family, with friends, with the boy-scouts (a subject for an entire dissertation), with lovers. I have always enjoyed staring into the coals, the shifting shapes and colors carrying me to seldom considered memories and last night was no exception. Those friends, family and lovers have for the most part moved on leaving behind these visions, clear enough that it could have happened yesterday and creating a longing for what at this point seems like a better time. Then I look around the fire at the faces and realize that I am the exception here, that this group is moving two by two. Now I’m longing for a past that never existed and lamenting the absence of a partner in my life….

I think I’ll go home now

The morning after that, I remember what it was like to be me at that point in my life.  Afraid, lonely and so unsure of each step I took, I wouldn’t go back to that even if I could but It has taken a full day and night to get through this. Some lessons take longer and hurt more than others.

 

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