As inevitable as our separation, is the inevitability of loss.
One goes to Northern California, where her family's longing arms will happily receive her sometime next week; another, headed to San Jose?, perhaps for good, perhaps temporarily. The other, well, she is headed to Kansas? Kentucky? Connecticut?...not quite sure, some cacophonous place. And I.... I will be on the other side of the planet in no more than three weeks. That's twenty one days, or less. I question this because I am very bad at adding.
It's not the idea of losing this friendship that terrifies us, I don't think. No, it's not that. The friendship is strong, inadvertent. It was built upon our hopes, fears, and dreams, and these don't die. As long as our aspirations remain, so does the friendship.
It's not the thought of being thousands of miles away that frightens us, no not this either. The miles could be few, the miles could be many, we are there no matter what. Skype will work its magic, texts too, and let's not forget Facebook. The miles are miniscule.
It's not the idea of forgetting, either. In literally months, maybe less, we built a fort of a friendship like you've never seen before. The memories, aside from being recorded directly on here, are engraved in our memories, astute somewhere in the unfathomable crevices of our hearts.
It's not the idea of forgetting that frightens me, it is the idea of remembering. The idea that nothing else I will encounter will be as good as this, that nothing will be enough. The idea that from here on forward, it will be a long endless search for something that will measure up, that will suffice. The idea that comparing won't be an option, because this is decisively superior. It is the idea that, for once, my efforts were reciprocated.
It is the notion that this satisfying a need for a replay of the quarter will be impossible, and that my memories will have Cortez turning in his grave recalling that indeed "Watermelons were so much sweeter then."
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
2087