it’s odd how sometimes, farewells feel so heavy. i’m not quite sure why it is that way, except there is a part of me that always wants sharing and proximity to remain. attachment, i suppose, in the strict and most buddhist sense… i call it of that saudade variety because it’s a pleasant sadness and a pensive delight. hard to explain.
i take a lot of heat from my friends here and there for loving everyone. they’re not harsh about it, just somewhat exasperated with me. i think perhaps they think maybe if i didn’t, i would not so often be pensive. what they do not realize is that, if i’m to feel this way, i’d rather feel it for missing good people than the many other reasons such a feeling could come into being. so i’m content.
there is part of me that is sorely tempted to write at length about my friend. for respect of his privacy, i’ll not be naming him. and i think for purposes that have to do both with privacy and with that sense of protectiveness toward delicate and beautiful things i’ll not speak that much of him or this weekend.
except to say the following….
i have very few friends. but the ones i do have are precious to me in ways that words lack the ability to express. i often rattle on about being alone or feeling lonely, but in truth, it’s mostly the pensiveness that finds me living a life in which my friends are always at distance or that it is sometimes impossible to have the kinds of friendships with everyone that i so savor and treasure with these few, rare, diamond hearts.
yeah, yeah, i know… fucking idealism. heh. but hey, it’s a known thing and it isn’t changing. i’ll not kick myself for it any longer. it serves a purpose — if no other reason, to maintain in and of me that which wishes always for connection and closeness with others, that is not afraid of being open to others, and that will suffer no fear of injury or abuse.
i. love. people. i do. i love my friend. i love all my friends. acquaintances, too. the people i once knew and no longer do, the people i might have known, almost knew, and even strangers that i encountered and contemplated… halls of memory in which many images are held, commemorated, and honored.
i miss my friend already. even as i know there is nothing to miss because it’s here… and there… and always will be… until all things i know of this life pass utterly.
saudade. impermanence. the beauty of things that are, but that are known to be transitory as is all life. smiles and silent tears, you know? happy and sad…. equal parts and perfect in every way.
makes me want to write. makes me want to weave allegory and metaphor and simile and speak of far away things that rest deep inside. for now, i chuckle at myself and obligingly push it into la brea. go on, you, go burble and simmer until fully drawn and ready. for now, i enjoy this smile and these quiet tears and say simply, ‘safe travels, my friend… until next we meet — may you find more than you hope, less than you fear, and all that you need.’