I want to start by writing about nothing: the nothing that is possible in the company of great friends (soul mates). Moving, in spite of itself.

The sunset, literally an every day occurrence, becomes something more. In a moment on the subway, that feeling is still in the air.

Making a fool of yourself was never easier; you have no fear of failure here. They absorb all the doubts with their energy.

The understanding that comes with a history of shared compassion- whether a week or a decade. Rifling through memories, turning them inside out and around until the rust is rubbed clean and they play through your head without missing a beat and those feelings in your gut are back.

Not sadness, not melancholy alone. More of a longing. But with regret, despair, loss, joy, unending love. All of these feelings bundled and tied together.

We call them muffins (a silly name) because they are indescribable in adult words, these feelings. Anyway, when you are breaking, it’s easier to say: “I have so many muffins.”

A small laugh trembles into the void.

Tiring, we struggle. Some tie the memories, feelings, not with a ribbon and bow, but with a noose.

Cut them off. Move on. Leave the past where it belongs.


Maybe it is tiring, but I think that if cut it all off, there’s no going back. There will be a hole inside of me.

What if I never fill it? I won’t banish this part of me to make it easier right now.

These people will always be tied to memories. But the memories don’t have to be anchors, dead weights.

If we all hold on to each other, we will have so much love, always.

I love you guys. This post is for you.

Thanks for a great few days (:


What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s