The dance of Time and Distance

by kmdbookworm

I wish I could go back there. Just for a day, or a few sunlit hours. Back to high school hallways and campus cafés. We were all together then, laughing too loud. We knew all the words the bands played in the basements of bars, shoes sticky from the beer painted floors.

But Time and Distance, they have to have their say.

I saw a picture of you today. You looked different. Older maybe. Or more mature. Or maybe you just cut your hair differently. Maybe. The small changes are the creation of Time’s hands. I didn’t see that coming, but there it was. You’ve changed. And I wouldn’t know it because of that culprit Time. Yes we text and email and talk and Skype. But that only closes the Distance temporarily. That doesn’t show me those little changes of Time.

I heard a song today that reminded me of you. When was the last time we talked, friend? Well not even talked, no. Maybe an email or a text message a few months ago. A birthday wish or a Merry Christmas. A few short words to see how you were, what Life is handing you these days. But that song. The second it came on you were there. I hadn’t heard it in years, but it was full of you in every word and note. Now I recall those days. The ones Time has blurred. And Distance makes it harder to know you. Do you hear a song, and think of me?

It’s something they forget to tell you about. Oh, you know Time and Distance are there. They lead you on new adventures, of course. They bring you to the friends and crushes and loves. But they take you from those people, too. And then later they come out of nowhere, and make you miss so fiercely being able to see those people every day.

You know those friends now by 26 letters formed in emails to tell you how they’ve been. But those letters and words and paragraphs don’t tell you how they’ve changed.

And there’s phone calls — a voice separated by miles. And video chat — a fuzzy screen that doesn’t allow you to see them clearly, or touch their hand, notice the sparkle of their eyes.

Time and Distance know we need them though, as much as we despise them. For what are lives that only ever see one season and know one song? We must keep moving and growing and learning, and thus we must fall apart from those that taught us how to move and how to grow and how to learn.

All we can hope is that through the time and distance we somehow stay us enough to never lose each other completely. To carve out the time and cross the distance to be together — if just for one day, or a few sunlit hours.

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