I am not the same person you remember.
I laugh the same way, I'm still afraid of sneezes, I still giggle unnecessarily.
But my light has been dimmed.
I am not the same person you remember.
I have not spoken to you in a while.
You probably have not seen me in a while.
Maybe I have said "no" to one too many of your invitations.
Forgive me.
I have since lost a large piece of my hope pie.
I have since broken my literal heart.
I have since lost a piece of my confidence.
I am not the same person you remember.
"Get well" and "We love you" messages have become my staple.
As life goes on and I decelerate, I find less joy in waking up.
As people display their affection with human touch, I find that my reciprocal affection has been replaced by fear of contamination.
So strong is the fear, that even on my brightest day, I often prefer the company of my furry friend to loved ones.
Yes, I still love you, but...
I am not the same person you remember.
I will still make you laugh.
I will still make you think unconventionally.
I will still make you believe that I am the same person.
But you will sense my distance, for I am scarred, frightened and on edge.
Mortality is a thought never far. A reality never far.
I miss you, but...
I am simply a different person from what you remember. ❤️
Sho, thanks for sharing. Beautifully written but also devastating in meaning.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the comment, Brett.
DeleteWhew. Hectic. Someone may be chopping onions nearby. I wish I could say something comforting or wise. But unusually, words fail me. All I can offer are my prayers for your peace of mind. Knowing that however awful the script and however crappy your part in the play, the Divine director is still in charge. Big hug. 😘
ReplyDelete