Sometimes it is simply easier to live with the absence.
My friend—dearest and longest of my life. My soul sister, truly. To see you again is as though no time has passed, and yet so much has happened.
I have not allowed myself to think of how much I have missed you, and for how long.
Our entire relationship, practically, has been like this. Certainly, there were times early on that we spent a lot of time in each other’s company. But for much of our relationship, you have been far away. Perhaps I should have followed you, but I had neither your resources nor your courage. For a variety of reasons, it was not practical for me to follow you on the winds on which you have drifted to and fro. And now that you are anchored, firmly rooted in a single place, it would seem that I cannot follow you there, either.
So, I have stayed here, this quiet constant, awaiting your increasingly infrequent visits, to spend scraps of time in your beloved company. And such beloved scraps they are.
You are one of those dear, wise people, who have remained exactly the same, even as you have changed so much. I love seeing you as a mother, to three beautiful children—so innocent and pure and lively. I love listening to you speak of the path that you are following, the wisdom it has brought you—and the wisdom you have brought to it.
Perhaps it is simply the case that our collective wisdom, precious and rare, must be scattered widely. There is not enough of it in this world for it to be hoarded jealously in a single place. We must each, independently, gift our separate worlds with the treasures we have carefully gathered and cultivated.
But maybe, one day, we will come together again, and the single beads of time that we have shared can be joined into a necklace. In the meantime, I will carry on.