a ramble. . ."Next"
. . . on the tip of winter's tongue. Hmm, an interesting line. The cool inviting relief from summer's scorching, and yet the preface of winter's hard biting, stinging chill. I silently mused those last few words over and over this morn. . . on the tip of winter's tongue.
Leap.
For whatever reason, I began to contemplate the question,"Why do friendships die?" I immediately began to think of Alex (a character name I gave to a friend along with two other characters in a very, very short story I wrote appr. 8 years ago) and what exactly it was that separated us to the point of distant respect, but proximity disdain. I miss Alex and the miss ya hugs which are/were a trademark personality trait of his wife of eleven years, Mandy. But the last evening visitation in our home still comes to mind. All those years of history short circuited by seemingly point-of-no-return betrayal. How could I have anticipated that a few games of billiards and to much alcohol could have such decimating consequences.
I remember, when I was a much younger child, wondering why all the people, to whom my parents sent and recieved christmas cards, never would come to our hometown. They always told me that such and such was a friend from college, or someone with whom they had shared a period of years, or a disconnected (the double consonant; a weapon of future character assination?) association from somewhere, in someplace, at sometime. If such people ever did drop by, I don't ever recall meeting them. Oh sure, there were the periodic community social associations by both, and Papa Bear's bird fancier friends, but did they really not long for some quality time with those that at some point in thier lives they had shared secrets, wishes, and vulnerabilities.
I suppose one might try to make the point that people just grow apart, move in different directions, find facination with different 'others', feel stuck and/or rutted, just forget, meant to but didn't. Priorities.
I think about 'them' periodically and wish they were here. I'm not willing to take them to the shelter and let or hope someone will take care of them. Wasn't that what friendship was all about in the first place, unspoken assumed commitment. Is time an acceptable excuse. Admitedly, I too meant to . . . but didn't. Forgive me for substituting you (general, whoever happens by) for them.
Sensing the inevitable question, "So what is your point, Mike?". I haven't got a clue. That is why the first two words are "a ramble".
Don't read to much into it, just gett'in carried away.
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Did you get this far Mrs. M.? I thought about making a response to #604, and for two days mentally played should I or shouldn't I. I was afraid that it would be percieved as a mock and I definitly did not want it to be percieved as such. Yet know, I did want to wish you well and hope that whatever burdens were laid upon you have been or will be quickly alleviated to your satisfaction. I can't help but feel that a chasm is forming. I've always enjoyed reading your work . . . here, however, feel this may be the last chance I can sincerely make that comment or hope you will not suspect a motive. Whatever inevitability, I hope I will forever be able to say, I was always a fan. My eyes are welling, time to go.
All the best,
Mike
Anticipating another- No, I didn't see the movie("THE FAN"), but I pretty much got the premise from the promo's. Cities scare the crap out of me. We'll never meet. Oct. sure got here quick (smile); too damn HOT! |
