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No Explanation

Your compassion is lovely - and understood.

Though not, in this instance, shared.

His world is all wrong, yes.

You are right.

Our friend (though he does not know that we are his mutual friends – he has no idea at all of our connection to each other and thank you, Father, for not telling him) had the heart and mind and talent not to have made it worse.

But he chose to anyway.

And he is far from aware that he is distressed over this eruption and its consequent breach - in fact he thinks he is relieved. This is the sad part.  Because he is not.

He ran away.
He hid.

By his own hand he lessened his stature  - and his sphere of influence became, as he did, smaller, meaner, colder, more cowardly, less powerful, unradiant and lonelier than ever.

I do not miss him.
I cannot.

He is part of my mind, my heart, my bread, my stars, and cannot not be. I missed the chatter at first – still do at times, but this silence is much more binding. And thus he wills what he will not.

But I wanted greatness for him.
I loved him so.

As for his soul, his genuine grief, his legitimate spiritual trauma - and his relationship to a world so unlike him that each day is a supreme effort to negotiate, well, that is a complex issue - and no one could understand it more than you.

Except me.

When you see him, hold him to your heart for a moment, for me.

I wish I were as merciful as you.

But I am condemned to justice.

“Tzedek, tzedek tirdof…”*
 
And yet, you think so beautifully.

~H

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*Deuteronomy 16:20

 

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I loved him so....

What a wonderful monologue, Harrison. I love the language, the intimacy, the brutal honesty and reality that you have captured here. Super piece. mx

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"It might have been..."

Whittier's saddest words came to mind when writing this. A deep, dear friend and I parted ways last year - because I couldn't accept his choices and consequent actions and he couldn't accept that. And yet the past tense here -  "I loved him so" oddly inaccurate. "Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds" - and so a painful dichotomy remains alive and well - we are bound by silence and memory; loosed by divergent minds. Thanks for appreciating this. x