Drifting

We’re all drifting. We’re all changing. I wonder who will be there on the other side. Who of us will remain and who of us will not. It saddens me to think of us all diverging into different directions. We’ll look back over our shoulders, but find nothing there but empty horizons. It’s where we’re going that matters. It’s where we are. And here, on this trash laden street where the dogs bark too loud and the wandering junkies quarrel with their families, here where the neighborhood kids run and sometimes come into your house without asking to steal a bass guitar and amp, here where we’ve all called home at some point or another, where family dinners were had, where breakups erupted and friendships sustained, here where dishes piled high, where the septic tank leaked in the basement, where in the backyard hundred year-old pipes were dug up, here where you wandered in unannounced and barefoot, here where I’ve slept many nights lonely and wondering, here where I’ve beared the heat and the cold, where I’ve returned when I had no where else to go, here I can see this era coming to an end. I can see you out there in the night, playing your guitar, and you with sunglasses on your eyes looking for a microphone, and you with your pup and your kit, and you with your dancing. I see you. I see what we’ve been for each other. How families congeal in the strangest places, quite without telling us. And I see her, lying in my bed–something I never thought would happen again. But it did. And we got bagels in the morning, and I thought for a second our paths were coming back together. But that’s life you know? Things just happen how they happen. We grow. We change. We move in different directions. We try our best to hold on but it’s useless. Unconditional love means being mindful of our trajectories, knowing when it’s time to let go. We can’t know the future, but we can know the present. We can know the present.

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