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Somewhere along the way a gulf developed larger than you or me, and now, three thousand miles lie between us-- miles that could have gone away with a simple ring. Yes, the call did come, but with it did not come the ship to sail the mighty gulf, rather a storm, as the hurricane caused to be tossing what love remains to and fro upon its stormy seas. What boundary can exist when the door is always open? How can this be mine if I'm not allowed to say "No?" Who am I? How am I to know me? How can I feel warm, fuzzy, feelings when you say: "What you write, you never express to me?" Do you not realize love does not die suddenly, but rather, slowly beside a wall, a fence, a barrier it can no longer scale? When first we met, no mountain was too high, but what the scaling I would not attempt. Now two years plus, finally an entire closet wholly mine. Oh, the energy expended for one tiny portion of a room in a place never to be mine. A white couch long past its prime. Oh, the energy expended to preserve its wasting value. The stair machine a menace to my toes, the stack of bills unpaid, combined with mailers long since expired; the closet filled with papers detailing events transpired; the storage space no one dares enter; the refrigerator with growth unknown; the freezer full of food long past its date. All these too slowly drain the energy needed for better, greater things. But "No," by far the telling blow is not in hearing that nerve destroying, peace arresting, joy evoking, yell and scream of those little ones within my home whose memory of me will be all I leave behind... |