Friday, September 09, 2005
Recovery position
She looked so fragile, lying asleep in bed.
I saw with a stranger's eyes, the many tubes perforating the fragile shell of her skin, these strange coloured lines tracing out - almost dictating - her continued existence on an impassive flatscren monitor.
And then she stirred as the warrior princess called her name, returning reluctantly to life, almost as if from another place... or perhaps just the depths of a drug induced slumber.
We spoke, briefly; the words awkward and terse... we felt, both of us, how much she needed to rest, how we were almost intruding in her world.
She was worried about what a sight she must look... (women!)
I looked again, my own eyesight restored now at the numbers on the screen and they were perfect. I told her so.
And then we left.
Be well.
*****
Empathy.
Is seeing with a stranger's eyes - or trying to bridge the divide.
I see it now. she had little empathy. Certainly not enough to bridge our divide. Certainly not enough to care.
*****
It struck me as I spoke to them, these two new friends of mine - as I watched their gray eyes watching mine...
... that they too were watchers.
He looked into her eyes. She held his gaze.
They met somewhere in the middle.
How strange.
*****
I will miss her, when she leaves.
*****
She commented that people in this country cannot speak properly, and they cannot pronounce 'th'... how when she first arrived she could not understand what people meant by 'te' (the) and 'tree' (three).
he added with a chuckle that he had asked the taxi driver what language he was speaking in, only to be told "english".
He laughed.
*****
As he read her write "ppl come in and out of life all the time..." (ostensibly either to reassure him, and tell not to grieve at the passing of their friendship, or else to try to make him admit that he was in love with her and grieving for that reason...) he realised that she did not understand the value of friendship.
People do walk in and out of our lives all the time.
The ones that stay, for even a while - despite the odds - despite the disagreements and arguments - become friends.
*****
He remembered Her telling him how She had been so excited at the news that he was coming to visit; how in truth She hadn't rushed to book a ticket to darkest Peru, but told all her friends (strangers to Him) how He was coming to visit, and how they had always been friends for yonks, and how they would always be friends forever...
... how wrong you were, eh.
My bad. You understood... and in a funny way, I did too. But I still chose poorly.
It's too late now, but I wish there was some way to find those two people again, K.
I wish there was a past in which they'd both stayed fast friends, despite his stupidity.
But now they're forever lost, hidden from each other in the maze of time.
I shall never receive Your forgiveness, because You are not Her anymore, and to You today, there is, after all... nothing left to forgive.
I shall never be your friend, again.
I miss you, old friend.
I miss our friendship.
I saw with a stranger's eyes, the many tubes perforating the fragile shell of her skin, these strange coloured lines tracing out - almost dictating - her continued existence on an impassive flatscren monitor.
And then she stirred as the warrior princess called her name, returning reluctantly to life, almost as if from another place... or perhaps just the depths of a drug induced slumber.
We spoke, briefly; the words awkward and terse... we felt, both of us, how much she needed to rest, how we were almost intruding in her world.
She was worried about what a sight she must look... (women!)
I looked again, my own eyesight restored now at the numbers on the screen and they were perfect. I told her so.
And then we left.
Be well.
*****
Empathy.
Is seeing with a stranger's eyes - or trying to bridge the divide.
I see it now. she had little empathy. Certainly not enough to bridge our divide. Certainly not enough to care.
*****
It struck me as I spoke to them, these two new friends of mine - as I watched their gray eyes watching mine...
... that they too were watchers.
He looked into her eyes. She held his gaze.
They met somewhere in the middle.
How strange.
*****
I will miss her, when she leaves.
*****
She commented that people in this country cannot speak properly, and they cannot pronounce 'th'... how when she first arrived she could not understand what people meant by 'te' (the) and 'tree' (three).
he added with a chuckle that he had asked the taxi driver what language he was speaking in, only to be told "english".
He laughed.
*****
As he read her write "ppl come in and out of life all the time..." (ostensibly either to reassure him, and tell not to grieve at the passing of their friendship, or else to try to make him admit that he was in love with her and grieving for that reason...) he realised that she did not understand the value of friendship.
People do walk in and out of our lives all the time.
The ones that stay, for even a while - despite the odds - despite the disagreements and arguments - become friends.
*****
He remembered Her telling him how She had been so excited at the news that he was coming to visit; how in truth She hadn't rushed to book a ticket to darkest Peru, but told all her friends (strangers to Him) how He was coming to visit, and how they had always been friends for yonks, and how they would always be friends forever...
... how wrong you were, eh.
My bad. You understood... and in a funny way, I did too. But I still chose poorly.
It's too late now, but I wish there was some way to find those two people again, K.
I wish there was a past in which they'd both stayed fast friends, despite his stupidity.
But now they're forever lost, hidden from each other in the maze of time.
I shall never receive Your forgiveness, because You are not Her anymore, and to You today, there is, after all... nothing left to forgive.
I shall never be your friend, again.
I miss you, old friend.
I miss our friendship.
