funny how our old age sneaks up on us like some shadow from behind. it's so gradual we don't even notice the wrinkles forming in our furrowed brows or that the sparkles in our eyes are fading ever so dim. i just hope that light hasn't burnt out all together because sam, i am not ready for grey hair and giving up. i'm holding out for a second great awakening of our spirits. maybe the fire in our hearts wasn't put out with our maturity, but instead follows a cycle of change, like the seasons. the sun came out last saturday and i saw daffodils lining the streets and my green hills returned. i hope the sunlight stays and reflects off of my heavy eyes. i hope the sidewalk chalk will bring good news before new rainfall washes it away again.
i told him i was trying to be his friend. he said that's something he wasn't very good at. i asked what he was afraid of and he just looked at me with so many sleepless nights and frozen lips and skeletons in the closet. sam, is that just the way the world works? the taffy pulls of our young heartstrings and the apple slice smiles from yesterday disappear while the closet door will never stay shut and our mistakes seep through the cracks, travel through walls like ghosts to haunt us to our fragile and aging bones until we die.
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