Months ago, before the waves of sad came washing back up, before it was clear to me how much more pain I had to attend to, an old friend came back into my life. That’s such an easy way to put it, so simple and innocuous: an old friend. An old friend who happened to pop up after ten years of silence, just as my world was falling down. Just an old friend. Just like that. And oh, how that complicated things, but not in the way I expected. It never happens the way I expect.
I’m not quite sure where to start. This seems to be my second wave; mourning the loss of something I never actually had. It’s tricky. But the story? It’s romantic, and lovely, and heartbreaking, and still developing in its own strange little way. And if I want to move forward it’s something I have to get out.