Thursday, August 27, 2009
It’s not difficult for me to locate the galvanized, steel-encased sadness and regret inside me.
Of years gone by. If I allow myself to do this, that is.
It won’t make me cry, but it can. Even if I’ve put [most of] it to bed.
Dinner with very special people who were like family to me for years, and after a few glasses of rouge, ended up chatting for hours.
And it was good for me to know that, in a parallel universe, people are different.
Sometimes it’s not how you’d expect; sometimes it may not necessarily be for the outward good. Maybe it’s not even static.
It makes the gap wider, more recognisable, and it also freezes time. The past.
Trust me, that’s a good thing.
And it makes things more understandable, and in some cases, bearable.