Messenger Bag

I was happy to find that we are still friends. We're both skinnier than we were back then; learning self-control or learning to let go of it has been good for both of us. Has it really been five years? I stretch my hand halfway across the table and the gulf between us seems smaller than it has in a long time. Its an uncomfortable regret that I hold for you: such a good man. I am guilty of not understanding.

What solace though, to see that our little world could rise from its own ashes. I remember writing it off as scorched, fatally, maybe even on purpose because I could think of no creative solution. But I started to see last night that relationships don't need to be finite - that we could evolve, grow together while apart, and return every so often to nurture the spring tendrils of the adults we are becoming. So I stretch my hand across the table to say, I finally see you; I'm sorry it took me so long - it was not until this moment that I had enough light in me to see your reflection.