There is this place in my dreams where every once in a while, not very often, you speak to me. Your words pierce the gulf of silence and darkness which lies between us. I awaken in wonder, with tears of yearning that I know you must share. Your words, beautiful words, are so clear and crisp, so true and marvelous. They astound me.
For it is as though you sit on the other side of this gulf that divides. So near to the touch, and yet so far, for the gulf is deep and vast. It is deep enough to hold the hopes and dreams, thoughts and yearnings swarming inside of you, the ones that don’t make it to me. It is dark enough to swallow the hopes, the pain and the unknown…my many attempts to cross it.
I see you sitting there, on the other side. I sit on the edge and reach for you. I reach for you when I see your body contorting, screaming, hitting, pulling, crying. I extend you my heart, this container that strains to catch some of your pain and confusion. I reach for you when I see you sit silent and motionless. I close my eyes and try to see what you see, to imagine what you imagine. I reach for you when I see you struggle with the chaos of this world, how your mind wars within as your emotions spin out of control. I reach for you when I see your smiles and laughter…what is it that brings you this moment of joy, this flash of happiness? I reach for you when I see the tears fall. Oh that your tears could tell me the story.
I reach for you, I touch you…but all else falls. It all falls…for the gulf is so deep and so vast.
I’m so sorry you sit on the other side of this gulf. I’m so sorry that I don’t know how to cross it, that I can’t remove it, that it exists. All I can do is reach for you. And I reach for you Cody, all the time, with my whole being. I always will.