It took me a little time but it finally has come. The gut punch that feels as if it came from the far reaches of the map hitting me squarely. Although our time was short, my love grew quicker than I’d like to admit. Quicker than yours. Deeper than yours. I finally stopped long enough today to think on what happened. But this house is far too quiet to think. I never knew how small these four walls were until they started to squeeze. I frequently think of you during the day. At night, while I stare at the stars and moon I whisper your name, hoping that somehow we are still connected and you will hear me.
It seems as if my entire adult life has been patched together with one broken moment after the next. Some say it’s bad timing, others say it’s just not meant to be. But when I am alone and not putting on a smile or brave face, I can’t help but feel I am a lost soul forever searching for – happiness, acceptance, a figurative soft place to land after all these years of madness. As I grow older the cuts seem to go deeper, take longer to heal and leave a much more lasting scar. Gone is the naivety of my youth, when I thought things can and will always come back around. I have lived far too long, seeing that the bitter reality of having loved is loss.
Please don’t mistake my words for any type of pity party. Far from it. I have experienced plenty of good times, but being one that writes and dreams and tries to live life as it comes, I sometimes get wrapped up in the forever. I find myself trying to write the wrongs into a happy ever after. Maybe that’s why I can’t simply move on. Just can’t pick up and cry out “NEXT!” My heart, my inner workings are far too fragile for simple romance. No, I need and have always craved the deepest of emotions and perhaps that in itself might explain why you’re gone. Why you left. I pushed for more, thinking I could storm the walls and rescue you from the darkness when in fact, I should have allowed for the journey to take its course. I believe in second chances, although they are rare. I know that if you have the opportunity to love something again that was once lost, it’s a gift and should be cherished as such. After all, my wrong turns have gotten me to the right places before and each broken road can always be paved smooth.
© Jay Long 2016
Jay Long is an author, poet and natural story teller. Growing up in Hudson Valley area of New York has afforded him the pleasure of finding his creative voice from some of the most beautiful settings within the Northeast. Story telling, expressing feelings through words, and making people laugh are what Jay does best. He believes hearing someone laugh feeds the soul and is always humbled when others tell him they connect with his words or they have helped someone heal. You can learn more about Jay Long on his website and keep up with him on his new blog, Facebook and Instagram.