I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”
“The Night We Met” – Lord Huron

It’s been a hot minute since we spoke—perhaps a month of Sundays since we exchanged messages, what feels like aeons since our last call, and time immemorial since I was physically in your presence. I’ve tried to put you out of my mind, hoping that disconnecting from the outside world would help. I’ve kept so extremely busy that even my wildly unmedicated brain has, at times, managed to slow down and feel “normal.”

But then—boom—you’re right there. A sound, a smell, a comment, something, someone… and suddenly, I’m back. Wondering. Thinking. Worrying. Hoping.

I feel like Sisyphus—no matter how close I get to the top of my mountain, it’s inevitable that I’ll find myself at the bottom once more. The endless cycle. The weight of it. The ebbs and flows of emotions that never truly leave.

I often wonder what you’re doing at this very moment. Who’s your bestie these days? How’s life in general? How was your Christmas? New Year? Kwanzaa? What’s changed in your world? What’s new? How’s work? All of it.

I’d love to know.

I’d love to tell you things—to talk crap, to have random chit-chats. Like, I let my hair grow back briefly, and it turns out the rumors are true… I’ve gotten old. The vast majority of my hair is now white. My arthritic knuckles and carpal tunnel-ridden wrists are slowly giving up. My weight has gone down, along with my moods.

I shouldn’t. I can’t. I won’t.

It’s what’s best for me. It’s best for me & mine, not to know, to wait, to hold fast. The time will come when the candle has finished burning. I know that. I wonder if that will be sooner rather than later.

May your world be as beautiful as your heart, as warm as the friendships you give, and as full of joy and love as the light you bring to those around you.

Kia kaha, kia māia, kia manawaroa.