Why does clarity come so infrequently? And why does it never last more than a few minutes? I guess we just get so focused on fixing the pieces left of our mistakes that we can't see the forest for the trees, forgetting all of the good intentions that led to those mistakes.
I was exhausted when I finally sat down on the ground, my feet tingling with a relief that slowly worked its way up my legs. I looked around me, shivering as night fell despite the warm weather, and became lost in the overwhelming chant of the insects, and birds; nature's nightly prayer to a god that only they can remember. Where have I been all these years? Sleeping beneath a dozen layers of pine needles, dirt, and insects; waking up every few months only long enough to wipe the crust from my sleepy eyes and look around before curling back up into my dreamless little world.
And where were you? I lost sight of you so long ago that I barely even recognized your face, your child-like smile, and your eyes radiating both joy and pain incomprehensible. Your health and color contrasted my last memory of seeing you; pale, scrawny, and so fucked-up on God-knows-what that I can't imagine you remember anything of our final good-bye. We were barely even acquaintances now, and what could possibly be said after 7 years? Not a single word was spoken that would've made anyone realize that we were once best friends, except perhaps the smug tone of your voice that indicated how much above me you have risen despite my constant attempts to hold you down so many years ago; and the quivering of my voice that revealed how I continue to struggle with forgiving myself for every thing I'd done to you even after all these years.