Always
there is hope.
Which is easy
to say.
Had an old
boyfriend who played that fiddle on me the morning after we’d had sex.
“I have
hope!” he would declare.
Maybe I
wasn’t half bad. Or maybe he just wasn’t getting it enough. Who knows where his
brain was at.
As it turned out, we didn’t last too long anyway.
Three full
moons ago I met a stranger, who became a friend.
I love
where I am at in my life. It’s easy for me to slither around. I’ve learned how
to accept what is. To be in the now. To think good thoughts. To not allow friction
to raise my heckles. To stay calm. Feet firmly planted.
Art fills my
heart with joy. So does creative thinking. Music.
Same with old souls
There’s
always a great connection.
In finding
this new friend, surprisingly I found more out about myself.
Yes, I suppose
life is school. Except you never really graduate.
In his eyes
I saw a bright, bright future full of the zest for life and for living. But
sadly, it came with a very dark cloud over his shoulder.
Alcoholism.
It’s been
almost seven years since I got rid of mine. I could see where he was at. I accepted everything about him. Didn't think any less.
Fun is
always had when we are together. So is wonderful conversation, sometimes even dancing.
Hints of a
crossroads for him prompted me to provide some resources. Subtlety I gave what
I could, what I knew.
But at a
distance.
Every once
in a while we would connect again. When it was right for him.
Traces of
hope started to emerge. I fed more. Again, I stood back.
This was something I didn't realize about myself. Usually I am a take the bull by the horns type of person. An action taker, when I see something that needs to be done. I do it.
At whatever cost.
Dad always used to say, "Patience is a virtue, a virtue which I have none."
Daily I
find myself consumed with hope for him. He is in my every thought. That he will find the peace he needs to
free himself. To reach out for the help he needs.
To save his shining soul.
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