Like it says in this blog's About Page, the posts are visible to all who visit, but the content is primarily for personal use and may be of little or no interest to anyone else. That description has perhaps never been more accurate than at this moment in time. This one's for me...
...And one other, an irretrievably lost soul defined by a sequestered longing for a light that was taken from him at an early age. His dreams were modest and deeply touching to hear. He did things the only way he knew how, to the final day. Win or lose, that's a trait that I admire.
Crap health and hurt feelings kept me from visiting him in the latter months of his life. His sudden passing taught me a valuable lesson, and the invisible wound that I felt inside afterwards — a ghostly bruise forged by the hammer-fall fact that it was too late to thank him for it — taught me another that was equally as profound. In all things, a lesson nestled.
I don't believe as he believed, but that doesn't stop me wishing that his unwavering faith in his way of thinking was enough to make it real for him. The world is shaped by our thoughts, after all, and who's to say that a single second can't last an eternity if the dreamer wishes it? Not all truths need absolute confirmation; some need only sincerity and reflection.
He once told me that I understood him better than anyone else did. Until that day, it hadn't occurred to me that the human soul could be tattooed upon so directly and so cleanly. It was a frightening and humbling realisation.
My trials go on. His have ended. Safe travels, W. I miss you.
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