Arrivals and Departures

Re-entry, exit wounds.

I didn’t think it would mean that much to me to hear you apologize and admit that I wasn’t the only one to blame. I was wrong. It feels good to not be right this time.

I don’t know where this is going, and I gave up on making promises; I am, however, willing to wait it out and see. I’ve put myself through Hell in the past 8 months. Trial after trial, knowing damn well what it was doing to me. Oh, I’ve got battle scars, and I’m proud of each and every one.

It’s interesting (to me, at least) the kind of people we turned into. I think it’s like this every time. We part and come back and find each other in such gloriously fine messes. You crawled in a shell; I broke down walls. But we get similar results, in the end.

I realize that I am a walking contradiction, but I think I’m going to defer to Walt Whitman on this one.

So, we talked about sacrifice and stepping outside yourself. I found so much of me out there; what did you find?

I’ve had this feeling for the past week that this has all been building to some kind of conclusion, point, lesson, or something. I’ve been largely ignoring that part, and now that I think I’m getting close, I feel a little foolish for doing so.

I think the conclusion is that it keeps going on.