I don't recognize the dance

I have written a hundred letters or more, each one starts the same; dear beloved, cherished friend. Ok, so not exactly.. the beloved and cherished is implied. Do you know? do you remember that you once knew and felt that from me?

Sometimes I tell you of my confusion; sometimes I tell you about how much of a loss I feel with you so far away, behind so many walls and mazes I can't find you any more. Always I ask about you, wonder and tell you that I don't want to pry, but surely would like to know how you are... not superficially- really. Really, how are you?... you... the whole you...

Sometimes I try to explain the unexplainable, place labels on the un-label-able. I never wanted to take a piece of your soul, change you or make you into my vision. I only ever wanted to be your friend.. and I had hoped you would have wanted to continue to be mine. And maybe we still are, but it is so difficult to tell from outside the maze.

And when I pour out my heart onto the page, and sometimes after a few tears slide down my cheeks, I delete it. I can't share when you aren't. I can't tell you how I feel, can't go beyond the edges of superficiality. So the pink elephant stays in the room, ignored, but taking up all the space.

We could have continued to dance together, you and I... as true friends, real friends, 'let down your hair and be whoever you are this moment', friends. Oh, I can hear you now. "I don't dance".. but you forget, I know you can when you let down your hair and let go of the fear.

And in my total confusion and mixed metaphors, it occurs to me that maybe we still are dancing together- only I just don't recognize it yet.

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