distant voices

I really can't hear you anymore, dear soulmate. You promised you would always be there. Being busy isn't nearly enough of an excuse for your absence and lack of concern. And I was okay with that after I told you just how I felt about it. I could deal with it. Your smile has been replaced with one that is not nearly as difficult to secure. Easy in fact. And my smile is much more constant than it was when I wondered about you. And yet, after your long absence, you call as if you're thinking of me and wondering what I'm up to. Yet I knew, as always, you needed something from me. I accommodated you, and held my heart at bay. It's much easier these days you know. And I felt myself not at all connected with what you think or how you feel. And you asked the right questions so I might think you interested. It's that way with us.

Then I heard your VOICE OF CONCERN. The one that always makes me feel as if you really care. But I recognize it now, you see. And it, like all the empty words, is transparent. So I nod my head as I hold the phone, and give the right answers. It's that way with us.

And you say we need to see each other - maybe next week. And I said I look forward to it. But I know it won't happen. You'll be crazy busy, and I'll be here or there, doing what I do without you in my world. I'm very used to it and have become quite comfortable with it.

And so now I won't hear from you again, unless you need something. I will remember you fondly, but I can no longer ask, "What if?" It's a moot point. And I suggest you do the same. Without you tugging at my heart, I can focus now on "What is." And it's good. You won't believe it. Perhaps you can't or don't want to. But I know. And I'm off on an adventure without you, leaving "What if?" behind. And from my new place in the universe, I really can't hear you anymore.