The Piercing

I’m looking at pictures of you, and
I don’t recognize the person I see.

I don’t recognize that smile, or that
hairstyle, or your sweatshirt, or the
way you do your make-up. When
did you become a stranger to me?

I’m confused by how it happened,
but I know it had to happen. We
aren’t kids anymore, and maybe
that’s all we had in common: just
a background, a story, and stories
can’t last forever. They have to have
some kind of ending. Is this ours?
Is this it? Are we no longer destined
to be friends for life?

Are you ready to let me go?

Maybe you already have.

From a while ago, but I'm feeling it now

save it for later

What happens when we grow up? What happens
when our beginnings have finally turned into the
middle, and we're no longer able to see down
that finnicky old tunnel that most people call life
and that sometimes involves sea lions and youth
pastors and sunsets that can never be erased from
the corners of your mind...? Some people fall, and
some people forget, and some people get lost in
the gigantic San Diego Zoos of life and are never
quite returned again. But when you look at what the
purpose is, at what should be pushing us forward
into this new "epoch" of our life, maybe they were
lost for a good cause. Because remembering them
is almost as good as really being with them.

Right?