There was that moment when I told you how I feel, and feeling it deeply, you had to fall and reaching out your hand I had to let you go. Broken apart, to see if you would come back to me. This was my desire. Keenly felt and written on cards, glances, extended meals and several nights. But seeing you there crumbling, myself falling apart too was magic glistening between us as creaking hearts and unfulfilled wishes – cascading in the only drifts that could keep them fulfilled – swam around us like breaks in the shore-line – cliffs tumbling emphatically into the sea. To be immersed, dreaded, perhaps to re-emerge but to do that to be lost.
You were about to leave my sight and doing that was healing in the extreme and cutting bare feet with salt as I walked. I wrote a play about that.
It began with a man on a beach with salt cut and freezing feet wondering which way to go. it was a hopeful piece. In the end he just had to go and his adventures brought him friends and songs and crying.
It ended with a song – it was very beautiful. A cry for freedom. At the journey’s end that’s all there was.
I am not sure what this has to do with you. But weary and dreaming of lying down a head next to you, there’s not much to do but walk and in walking find you reassembled forgetting the collapse.