I found some old prose today…

“I burnt some of my dreams today – the pursuit of knowledge that I had loved, and I tried to let go.  I saw the sorrow of holding onto things.  A wise woman once said “Ain’t nothin’ but a thang” and she was right – it was just a ‘thang’.

So I hide in old comfort music, like a large well-worn, well-loved jersey that always fits, regardless of how much weight I’ve put on or taken off.  And it feels like arms of love, that always fit.

A tear, an empty glass, a wet cheek, an old plan and it’s happy dreams that I thought would carry me through – all reduced to ash.

This is my wake to an old life, an old dream that won’t be realised, so I’m gonna grieve – and do it now.  I don’t want to hold on when letting go is what must be done. I have laughed – and I will laugh again. I just need to let go.

This is my wake – to celebrate the promise of a dream; never promised, simply an expectation unfulfilled.

And on some quiet level, deep down, deep deep below what I know, it’s actually OK because maybe there’s something else that awaits”

 

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For Graham

I’m sorry.

I didn’t know you well.

But maybe next time I will make that effort.

Except I didn’t know.

I’m not good at people stuff, or rather I’m not always sure where to draw the line and then I realise I’ve let the colours become blurred and I don’t know how to get them back.

I didn’t know that we shared the same disease; the same dis-ease;  the same sorrow; the same anguish; the same anything.

I keep thinking about you and wishing I’d reached out

Before you were more than a memory